


The Lion in Winter

by MrMissMrsRandom



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Discussions of sexuality, In the rare twist of fate Alm has to stay alive after Celica dies, Mourning, Multi, Navigating relationships, Nobody is planned to die onscreen but there are mentions of people besides Celica having died, Set thirty years after the end of Shadows of Valentia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/pseuds/MrMissMrsRandom
Summary: Lukas, to his surprise, must play kingmaker once more.





	1. A Message for the Messenger

A messenger had arrived at school with an announcement that the Queen was dead just after afternoon classes finished. Lukas had lent one of his students an Archanean historical text from his library when a man came panting at the door. He offered a chair and waited for him to gather his breath, and in that time looked over his attire. Royal colors, with the insignia of the one kingdom of Valentia was emblazoned on his tunic. When he told him the news, Lukas was surprised, but then made the connections. If there was news from the capital, it was usually brought through the post, weeks if not months after an event. The only other time someone had come unannounced was Python, when he brought news of Forsyth’s passing a few years ago. People either brought news of death or birth, and at this point in his life, Lukas assumed the former happened much more frequently among his remaining friends. 

“I’m sorry for my appearance, milord. Riders were sent out to spread the news. The folk around here said you’re the lord of these parts, so, I came straight here to let you know first.” The messenger gasped out, though the explanation didn’t give him much. 

Lord, that title was still odd to hear, even after ten years since his older brother had passed. Since he had died childless, Lukas became next in line for ownership of the small manse and farmland surrounding it. Rather than take over, he had changed his home into a school. He was far more used to being referred to as “Headmaster” at this point. However, Lukas decided it wasn’t worth much to make the correction, and he smiled in a way he had learned would calm both anxious youngsters and veteran soldiers that he had taught. 

“I’m sure you traveled long and hard to get here. Please, I offer the stable to your horse and a spare room to rest. The steward’s office is down the hall and the last room on the right. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll show you the way.” 

“Right, milord. Thank you, milord.” The man got to his feet and started to walk back after saying his message, but paused, turning back. “Um, milord?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… You’re Sir Lukas, yeah? The one that marched with King Alm all those years ago?”

Now Lukas wondered if the messenger was one by trade or a soldier sent out. Maybe rumors and legends were still passed around the castle barracks even after he had retired. “Well, I suppose you were expecting someone more impressive. Thirty years do change a person.” he quipped, keeping his smile as the messenger grew flustered. 

“No, it’s not that. I mean, I thought… you knew Queen Anthiese, personally. I suppose I was just expecting more of a reaction, milord.” 

Ah, there it was. The age old reaction. Lukas supposed that would never change, but he at least now was at peace with it. “Apologies. Though I knew her, we did not have many times to speak, and since I was a knight rather than a mage, even after the war of unification we did not have many moments to speak. Still, to hear she is gone is a terrible loss for all of Valentia.” 

That appeared to be enough of a response for the messenger. He bowed and went to some well-deserved rest, leaving Lukas alone with his thoughts. He settled back into his cushioned work chair. Queen Anthiese, or as Alm called her, Celica, had been a beacon of hope that the people needed after Duma and Mila were killed. She guided with a firm but gentle hand, ruling beside Alm as equals. Despite being the surviving daughter of King Lima, she had not inherited his sloth or greed. Lukas, if had been more likely to voice complaints, had none about her. And losing her would not only be devastating for Alm, but for the people as well, who revered her as Mila’s incarnation. However, the King and Queen had a daughter, Princess Tierney, who was already of age, and ready to ascend the throne if Alm wished to retire. The one kingdom they had all fought for would live on past the Queen’s death.

After pondering on the information for a little longer, Lukas wrote a quick message of his own telling the news to be delivered around the school and surrounding villages. A few hours later, he was back in his room after supper, sharing a pot of tea with Luthier, who was now sitting across from him. He had asked the mage to come to the school to teach magic. After traveling for the last few decades, Luthier had been open to the idea, and set up classes on magical theory and practice both in the Valentian and Archanean forms. His classes had turned especially popular with children who had magic potential but did not want to devote to a life of service to the Church. Eventually, Luthier had branched out to show how magic could help with everyday tasks that could be incorporated to regular village life for the students who didn’t want to become soldiers either. In time, Luthier had also grown into one of Lukas's closest friends, in a sense. Though Lukas was the owner and headmaster of the school, he talked with Luthier as a peer.

Luthier was also surprised by the dark tidings that had been sent. “What a horrible thing to happen, and I thought the Queen had been in good health.” Luthier sighed after taking a sip.

“I think by living this long, we’ve learned how life is never guaranteed at this point.” Lukas said pensively. “I suppose it will be our turn soon enough.” 

“Now don’t you start. I don’t want to have to pull you out a depression like when you got the letter about Python.” Luthier grouched, but Lukas, strangely, knew it was from a position of concern. Soon after coming to tell him about Forsyth's passing, Python had returned to his post along the frontier, and was killed in a skirmish. Lukas had tried to convince Python to stay, but he had simply laughed and shook his head. 

“This ain’t my kind of lifestyle, Lukas. And I never cared about dying gracefully. What makes you think I’d want to now?” 

“No, this isn’t like that.” He leaned forward to take out some orange peel shortbread he kept in a tin at his desk for such occasions. “And did I truly act that different?”

Luthier ran a hand along the side of his face, now covered in facial hair. He had been working on a beard since last winter. It was fall again, and with how cold the days could get without Mila’s bounty, Lukas more than once wished he could grow one of his own, but save for an irregular peppering of peach fuzz, his body had refused. Eventually, Luthier gave his answer. “Well, you maintained your routine. You helped with training, you taught your regular classes, but, it was like you were an automaton of some kind. You were wound up, but I didn’t see any… drive? I was afraid for you. Sometimes I still am.” 

Lukas smiled, moving over to fill up Luthier’s cup with fresh tea. “Thank you for worrying, Luthier. I’m glad that you agreed to come here.” 

“I couldn’t very well live with Delthea’s family in the capital. I love my family, but only in small increments.” Luthier replied, hiding his smile while sipping his tea. “So, how do you think King Alm has taken this?”

“Not well.” Lukas answered truthfully. He hadn’t seen Alm since starting the school, but with what he remembered, the king still tended to get overly emotional in times of crises. “I hope he can harness his love for the Queen into preparing the Princess for rule and to his people like he always has.”

“My biggest worry is that he’ll fall into the grave right after her.” Luthier replied. Lukas thought likewise, though did not say as such. 

They continued their discussion into the night, before eventually retiring to their respective rooms. As he prepared for bed, Lukas’s eye caught an something he usually thought little of that was hanging on his wall. It was a lance, gold tipped at the head, with three prongs and decorated in the center with a red jewel. Alm had given it to him when the Deliverance had traveled inside Fear mountain, en route to the manse at its summit. After a particularly harrowing battle, the lance appeared as a spoil, Alm had decided Lukas would wield it best. 

“I don’t know. Just feels like it suits you.” That was his explanation, but when Lukas had discovered it’s uncanny ability to harness the attacks that had been dealt against him and unleash them back on foes, he had no complaints. It wasn’t until they reached Rigel Castle that he heard a passing comment about it from surviving soldiers of Emperor Rudolph’s forces. It was referred to as “Duma’s Lance.” 

Perhaps it had been a coincidence, yet the weapon had served him well during the final battle against Rigel’s god: he had survived the mad dragon’s onslaught as Alm finished the battle with Falchion after all other weapons began to fail, putting Duma to rest along with his sister. And though Duma was gone, sometimes Lukas would see the jewel gleam in an unearthly light. If some of the god’s power still dwelled within it, he did not know for sure, as he had not used the lance in battle since. Most of his time after the war had been spent training new recruits, and then as the years passed, most of his teaching shifted from weapons training to tactics and battle theory. And yet...

Lukas walked over, resting his hands along the pole, but not lifting it from its place. He wondered, again, why Alm had given it to him, searching for a reason once more, even though he knew there was none. In war, when new, more powerful weapons were found, you would lay down the old. It was simple as that.

“...I hope he’s in good health.” He said the words so they could be carried whatever way they chose, before releasing his grip and going to bed. 

(~)

Less than a month later, another messenger came to Lukas’s school, though she was no mere squire. 

“Lady Mathilda. This is a surprise.” And Lukas was surprised to find Valentia’s top general waiting in his study. 

“Sir Lukas, I assume you know why I’m here.” Mathilda’s voice was stern, motioning Lukas to sit at his desk. He did not have a faintest idea why, but did as was instructed. Despite being close to sixty, time had changed very little. More laugh lines and gray streaked in her yellow hair, but her back was straight and her body strong. Only a fool would ever willingly go against her. He waited for Mathilda to voice her reasons, and it did not take long. 

“Queen Cel-” she paused, her eyebrows knitting after she stopped midway, but then she continued. “Queen Anthiese has recently passed, as I’m sure you’ve heard. I commanded the soldier to go to you myself.” 

“Oh, so that’s why he arrived so soon.” Lukas commented evenly. 

“What I didn’t expect is his return without you.” Mathilda replied firmly. “You knew her, Lukas. Though you have retired, you are a founding member of the knights that lead to our kingdom being formed. When I saw that you had not even made it to the funeral, I was aghast.” 

“I thought Clive had told you about my coldness, my lady.” Lukas. He felt some regret when he saw how Mathilda’s face fell. Clive had passed abruptly in the years after the war, in a pirate attack. Mathilda had donned her armor once more to take control of Valentia’s knights in his place, leaving her two children under the care of Lady Clair. Though it was so long ago, she had never remarried. “I apologize-”

“No, don’t take it back.” She replied firmly, her face returning to a determined mask. “What I had to say was not colored by Clive. I know your character myself, how much you have done, and it still didn’t make sense. True, running a school must be a fulltime job, but Luthier is here, he could have held down the fort, and I’ve seen more teachers walk through the doorways.” 

While her words were accusing, Lukas didn’t hear it in her tone. She genuinely wanted to know. Now that he had time to look back, maybe he had put too much faith in Clive that he should have in Mathilda. However, his thoughts back then had been “colored” by more. "I did not see the point of me going. I was never particularly close to the Queen, and I thought I would only be intruding on mourners’ grief.” 

“And what of King Alm’s grief?” 

Lukas chose his next words carefully. “...The King still has friends alive and well, and a daughter to help ease his pain. I’ve never been considered a comforting presence before, so it didn’t occur to me that I would be now.” 

“Gray and Tobin have their own affairs, as does Clair. Kliff is still wandering the earth. Faye passed years ago back in Ram Village.” Mathilda replied flatly, as someone who’s being told something she’s heard many times already. “And as for Princess Tierney, she went as an ambassador to Archanea last spring, before the Queen’s condition took a turn for the worse. It’ll be a miracle if the messenger makes it there in time before the winter storms, and afterwards, it may take a year before the Princess can return. You’re the only one that’s left.”

“For what?”

“To comfort him.” Mathilda said point blank.

Lukas bit back a sigh. “I thought we already established I’m not the right man for that.” 

“Fine then, I want you to advise him.” Mathilda crossed her arms. “You’re the first man he met when he left Ram Village, a reminder of times past. I’m his general, and I can never be the kind of support that he needs right now.”

He leaned back in his chair, now letting out his sigh. “I didn’t think he would take her death well. But is it that bad?” 

Mathilda frowned. “You didn’t see his face at the funeral. When they lowered the coffin, it looked like he wanted to jump in after it… I know what that feels like.” She turned her face away, probably caught up in her own memory. “But I can’t watch him and maintain my other duties. Even then, I don’t think he has enough personal trust in me to act as his confidant. We still need a king until the heir returns, Lukas. If he dies before then, all our years of work and toil could vanish.” 

“Mathilda, I’m not the right person for this.” Lukas said.

“You’re the only one left who can do this.” 

Lukas thought about the life he had found for himself, how he felt that he finally found a place that he had chosen and made for himself, and only now being told he would have to leave it. However, if Alm died, perhaps this place would be taken from him, or destroyed in the upheaval of a coup. He had forgotten how much could lay on a king’s life. 

“You think it will take a year, for the Princess to return?” He asked, and Mathilda nodded.

“Yes. A year is all I ask.” Mathilda replied. 

“You know he won’t be happy about me acting as his babysitter. He’s a grown man.” 

“He’ll thank us both for it in the end.” Mathilda replied, rather blithely for the situation, which probably showed that the general hadn’t had much time to think through her grand plan. “I’ll give you a few days to prepare. In the meantime, mind if I teach your kids a few moves? I saw them practicing out in the yard, and I have an itch to spar.”

“Please, be gentle with the students, my lady.” Lukas answered as she got to her feet. He hadn’t said yes directly, but she had taken it as one all the same. “I should let Luthier know about this.”

“Oh, he already does. I told him when I arrived.” Mathilda called over her shoulder. “He said something about compiling a list of things he would like you to send from the capital.” 

Somehow, Lukas wasn’t surprised that his friend without care had thrown him into Mathilda’s path. He found himself even less surprised when Luthier came to his office before supper with said list.

“You really had no intention of coming to my defense?” Lukas asked while giving it a quick once over. Supplies, books, toys for some of the younger students, medicine for Luthier’s oldest cat. 

“I’ve seen General Mathilda in battle before. I never want to do anything that gets me on the wrong side of her lance.” Luthier answered primly, stroking his beard. “Besides, you have hardly left the manor in years. A little change in scenery could do you good.”

Lukas rolled up the list and set it aside for packing later, thinking about his next words carefully. “...This isn’t about me. It’s about Alm.”

“I know.” Luthier answered, before leaning forward to pat his hand. It was a small gesture that Lukas had grown fond of in their years working together. Come to think of it, it was probably one of the only times he was touched by another person. “Don’t fret. I’ll keep the school safe while you’re away, and you’ll help the king get through this. You’re good at advising.”

“I suppose.” Lukas smiled, though doubts were still on his mind, and they lingered as the date drew closer. He had many heartfelt goodbyes with his students, and he felt a small jolt of pride at thinking about how many had grown stronger in their studies in their time there, and would continue to do so in his absence. Since he had no family of his own, they would become his legacy. Those that had learned their letters promised to write to him. Though Lukas joked that so many letters to the castle might raise a few looks, but he agreed that he would write back if they did. Some of the older ones even asked him if he could give the “stunning General” some love poems they wrote for her, and Lukas laughed and told them to give them themselves. All were good-naturedly rejected, but many went back to the training yard afterwards to learn what they could from Mathilda. 

When the morning of his departure arrived, Lukas, with his old fur-trimmed traveling cloak resting on his shoulders, looked around the room one last time. Very few personal effects had been here as it was, but it felt even more bare after packing. Save for some clothes and a few of his favorite books, he wouldn’t take much with him. There was no risk of him going unfed or unclothed in the castle. His gaze moved towards the wall, and lingered when he saw the lance. Lukas didn’t expect to go to battle in the months to come, but for the past few weeks, he kept finding himself noticing the thing. If he was more superstitious, perhaps he would say it “called” to him. 

He met Mathilda at the stables where their horses were saddled and ready, and her eyes widened as the horse handler helped him into his seat, and handed him tarp-wrapped lance. 

“...Is that…?”

“I’m not expecting to need it.” Lukas reassured her, having help strapping it to the rest of his belongings. “Think of it as a decoration. A memento of a retired soldier from his glory days.”

“Hmph. You’re still younger than I am, Lukas. And I know such a weapon is not meant for mere show.” But she said nothing else as they rode their horses to the front gates, where many of the school and staff were waiting to wave and yell goodbyes. Lukas raised his arm in farewell, a calm smile on his face. Luthier yelled at him not to forget about his cat medicine and the smile broadened a little. Though he did not show it, he would miss them. 

But then they passed through the gates, guiding their steeds through the quickly browning fields, and Lukas turned to thoughts of what lay ahead. 

“Tell me about court. How much has it changed since I was there last?”

“I don’t know much about it myself. Never have cared for the pageantry of it. But I know some of the heads of state, your new comrades.” She went into brief descriptions of them, and Lukas began to think of how to work around the variety of personalities. If he was to advise Alm, he would do his job well. Eventually, Mathilda got to someone surprising. “Among them is Chancellor Conrad, late Queen Anthiese’s brother. He is a good man, but stubborn. Try your best to stay on his good side.” 

“Ah, I remember the man.” Though the last time he had talked with him, he still had a habit of wearing a mask to hide his face. “Is he still a tad eccentric?”

Lukas was surprised that she chuckled at his question. “Only you would remember that. I had forgotten about the damned mask until you said that, though it was so long ago. The Chancellor has become an esteemed civil servant, and his dedication to Valentia is unparallelled. Like I said before: someone not best to cross.”

“Right.” Lukas nodded. “...Tell me about Alm, then. How much as the queen’s death changed him?”

“He’s still a good man, and a good king.” Mathilda replied firmly, before sighing. “Though sometimes I wonder if it’s just a front. Aside from his duties, he keeps to seclusion, and rarely interacts with others. It might take a while for him to act as he once was.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, do I have a cover story as to why I returned?” 

“A… story?”

“I can’t just go in and say the actual reason you’ve brought me back. Anyone who wants to get closer to Alm will be suspicious from the start.” Lukas replied. Without his lady wife, Alm was vulnerable to people who would try to garner power within court. His kindness could lose him his crown or his head. Lukas didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there was always a risk in gathering old and new nobility all in one place. Thirty years was still young in a kingdom’s lifetime, or at least in one that was meant to last.

Mathilda sighed, looking ahead. “Well, there’s still plenty of road between us and the castle walls. That leaves us plenty of time to think of a plan.”

Lukas was beginning to wonder if he would need the lance after all.


	2. Old Friends

“So, repeat the story for me one more time?” 

Lukas did his best not to show his growing aggravation with his travel partner as the whitewashed walls of what was once Zofia Castle came into view. “I wish to use the library for research purposes. I’m working on a project that details the events that lead up to Desaix’s coup.”

Though he didn’t see her, Lukas could tell Mathilda was rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand why it has to be so specific. All you have to say is that you’re writing a memoir.” 

“Lady Genny already wrote a compilation of memoirs over two decades ago, General.” Lukas replied. She was among the few he knew of from the Queen’s companions. He spent three days telling her his memories of the war, and received a signed, unbound copy a few months later. Lukas never read it, but he did read a few of Genny’s novels in the years since. She was a gifted storyteller in a way he would never be. “She tried to gain an audience with you, too. If I remember correctly.” 

“She did, though I was worried about her embellishing on a few events. I don’t enjoy giving my life story to strangers.” She said, easing her grip on the reins so her horse came to a stop. Lukas did the same. “Try to get him to open up to you, that’s your main priority. What little good will a cover story do if we can’t keep him alive?”

“I know. Alm’s welfare is at the forefront.” Lukas answered. Mathilda nodded, turning her head back towards the path, the late autumn sunlight catching against her hair. Throughout their journey, Lukas had learned more about Mathilda then he had ever expected to. How much she cared about their new country almost as much as she did her own family. She talked about her children, about seeing her eldest married just last spring, while her youngest had joined the knights to follow in her parent’s footsteps. She spoke of them both with a pride that he supposed most mothers had, but it was another side of the woman he did not think to notice as much, so long ago. “...I must say, despite getting used to riding on a horse instead of in a wagon not being the best for my back, this was an informative journey.”

Mathilda looked back at him, and smiled. She had understood what he meant. “Hm, it was for me as well. Now I know I picked the right man for the job.” 

Lukas decided it would be best to take the compliment rather than object, and only smiled back. They reached the open city gates around midday. He noticed the dozens of eyes that looked at Mathilda as they passed through the streets. Some saluted, or bowed, while others turned their gaze from the general to him. He kept his face calm and eyes forward, taking advantage of the elevated height of his horse to look around. All the buildings were in good condition and bustling with activity. No one looked to be underfed, which meant that the local farms had gathered a good crop this year. After years of turmoil, near famines and relearning how to create their own bounty without Mila’s magic, the people had grown to better understand how to provide for themselves.

Once they reached the castle, there were two helmeted guards on either side of the gate. Both gave Mathilda salutes as their horses approached.

“At ease, soldiers.” She instructed. “I request permission to enter.”

“Permission granted, General.”

“Aren’t you worried I’m not who I say I am?” Mathilda commented, though from her tone of voice it was meant to be a joke. 

“We would recognize you on sight, General.” The one on the left said through his helmet. The other’s visor, however, turned towards Lukas.

“It can’t be… Sir Lukas, is that you?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” Lukas replied. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Oh! J-just a moment!” The soldier pulled his helmet visor up enough to get a clear look of a face of a man in his early thirties. He had blue eyes, a scar running down one side of his nose, similar to someone Lukas could remember faintly.  
“...Ah.” 

“You probably don’t remember me, sir. But it’s great to see you.”

Lukas shook his head, allowing a smile to cross his face. One of his old pupils while he was still training recruits at the capital. “I do, however. How are you, Maurice?”

Maurice’s face brightened at the recognition, and it made his face all the more familiar. It had been almost fifteen years since he was a teenager that had wished to join the Brotherhood. Though since he was from a less privileged background, the only writing experience he had was being able to scrawl out his name. From that, Maurice ended up becoming one of his first academic students. Along with their basic training, Lukas also taught them how to read a write. Some abhorred the idea, wondering what good reading a book would do them against fights with brigands, yet Maurice was among the group that desired more knowledge beyond which side to use a lance.

“Very well, sir. I was able to move my Ma into the capital for her treatment, and I have enough to get by.” Maurice replied, gently rubbing the blunt end of his lance into the ground. “It’s all I ever hoped for.”

Lukas didn’t know if those types of things were all one could hope for, but then again, he didn’t confess to know the extent of others emotions. “That’s wonderful to hear. I’m glad you’re getting along.” 

Mathilda then took the opportunity to speak. “Pardon us, fellows, but we must be on our way.”

“Of course, General!” Maurice raised his arm in signal to open the gate, but as the wooden door rose, he turned back to Lukas in excitement. “Would you mind coming to look at how a few of the trainees are doing? I’m working as one of the instructors on odd days, but it would be great to have a real veteran come and show them a thing or two.”

“I would be happy to, though you may have to forgive me. My skills have grown rather lackluster in age.” Lukas answered. The gates finished rising, and he and Mathilda passed on.

“Well, seems I didn’t have to worry at all.” Her voice was low but amused. 

Lukas’s smile dropped. “One guard does not mean the rest of the court will look on me with fondness.” 

“Who knows, maybe you’re psyching yourself out for the worst.” Mathilda slowed so their horses now walked side by side. “I was surprised you remembered his name.”

“I’ve tried my best to remember the names of all my students. I feel like that’s part of a teacher’s duty.” Lukas replied. Most of the people he taught did not get the recognition they deserved if they were not from the nobility. Even with the changes brought about by the new kingdom, there was still a clear class divide between the highborn and common folk. Part of him hoped that education would bridge the gap, but he could only do so much. “Did someone take on my curriculum after I left?”

Mathilda shook her head. “My apologies, but I don’t believe so. Some tried and spoke to me for permission, but after a while, nobody wanted to put in the extra effort you did. A job like that on top of other duties is not one people tend to gravitate towards.”

Of course. “Perhaps it’s a job that should have it’s own position, then.” Lukas replied, a strategy already beginning in the back of his mind. He was inexperienced before, but maybe now he could make lasting change with the time he had at the capital, of knights that were educated in more than just weaponry. He would bring up the idea with Maurice at a later date. 

Servants from the stables came to assist them. One helped him dismount, and Lukas grimaced at the aches in his joints. He would have to remember to stretch later. Mathilda asked one man to bring up Lukas’s belongings to the castle. 

“I sent a message ahead at the last inn, so your quarters should be prepared.” Mathilda said while they walked through the entrance. There were a few governors and nobility around the entrance, and Lukas decided it would be best to ignore the stares. 

“Did you send a message to Alm as well?” Lukas asked.

Mathilda paused as she came to the first staircase. “I thought it would be better for you to see him when he isn’t expecting it.” 

They stopped around the main meeting hall, the place where Lukas remembered the king and queen were stationed on certain days to hear the grievances of their people. They had decided that the throne room had been too intimidating, so it was usually only used for ceremonies. Mathilda’s lips thinned as she looked around the room, as if she was searching for someone that was not there. 

“General!” One of the people nearby called out as they moved towards them. It was a tall man, probably in his early fifties, and dressed in the robes of a civil servant. He was also wearing a black armband, a common sign of mourning.

Mathilda bowed her head. “Chancellor. How do you fair today?”

“Well enough. Some days are harder than others.” The man replied with a polite smile. Judging by the shade of his silver-streaked hair and features, Lukas realized this was the queen’s brother, Conrad. The man turned his attention to Lukas, and bowed his head. “Salutations, Sir Lukas. The General told me ahead of time of your arrival. I hope you will be comfortable throughout your stay.” 

Lukas bowed as well. “Thank you, Chancellor. I offer my condolences on her Majesty’s passing.”

Conrad’s smile withered, before returning to a polite turn of the lips. “My grief is but a small portion of what Valentia’s people must feel at her absence, but thank you for your kindness.” 

The words sounded rehearsed, as if he had to make the same response dozens of times in the weeks that followed Queen Anthiese’s death. Mathilda asked more news about the capital from Conrad, and Lukas listened as they continued their exchange. Apparently, not much had changed in the time Mathilda had been gone, for good or ill. 

Mathilda eventually brought up what she had been wondering since they had arrived. “May I ask where the king is? He usually meets with the public on this day of the week.” 

“He’s in his study, I believe. I received news this morning that he required more time to look over some documents.” 

Lukas frowned. That wasn’t like him. Mathilda’s shoulders stiffened at the news. 

“Well, I suppose it’ll be a tad harder than I expected for his old friend to meet him. I’ll see if we can get him out of his nest.” Mathilda said nonchalantly. 

“Please be gentle with him, General. He really does have paper work.” Conrad warned, knowing the truth behind her words. Mathilda sighed. 

“We’ll just say hello, then.” Mathilda smiled. “Good day.” 

Lukas felt sorry for how Mathilda left the chancellor in her wake, but had no choice but to follow as she made long strides through the hall down another corridor. He didn’t comment, instead taking the silence as a chance to look around. Once more, very little had changed, though perhaps over the years it was made less extravagant and more inviting. Little could be done to change the outer architecture, but the garish interior that was present during King Lima’s time had been toned down. A few more guards stood at the entrance to the royal family’s wing of the castle. They allowed the two of them through when they saw it was Mathilda with a salute. Soon after that, they stopped at a tall, intricately carved door decorated with a growing tree. Mathilda knock her knuckle against it. No response.

“Perhaps he stepped out for a moment?” Lukas suggested, but was interrupted midway as Mathilda knocked harder and faster. Eventually, he heard an exasperated voice yell from behind the door. Mathilda stepped back as soon as it opened. 

“Was that necessary?” The older man that opened the door exclaimed, and Lukas felt a wave of shock when the voice was unmistakably Alm’s. However, everything else about him had drastically changed. Half his face was covered in a shaggy beard, it and the hair on his head had turned white. The only thing familiar to Lukas were the green eyes hiding under evident eyebags. In the ten years since they last met, Alm appeared to have aged by thirty. 

“You were not receiving visitors today, your Majesty. However, I felt that it wouldn’t be good to hide an old friend from your presence.” Mathilda answered, but Alm was staring at him as well. When the haggard face smiled at him Lukas didn’t know what he should feel, whether happy he recognized his friend, or saddened at how out of place the smile looked on his altered face. 

“Lukas. You’re here.” Alm grasped his hand, and Lukas readily returned the gesture. “I… I wasn’t expecting you?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, Alm.” Lukas replied, and he really was. He forgot about repeating his cover story and instead focusing on his friend. 

Alm squeezed his fingers before letting go. “No, don’t worry about it. You have a school to run, after all. You must always have your hands full with that.”

That was true, but Lukas felt a prickling sense of guilt that Alm had given him such an easy excuse. Alm shifted his gaze to Mathilda with a unspoken question

“I just happened to be in the same area as Lukas’s school, and thought I would drop by.” Mathilda replied smoothly. “While I was there he told me about a side project he has in the works.” 

“Oh. I would enjoy hearing it. Please, come in. And… apologies for the mess.” Alm opened the door for them to enter. Like he had warned, the study was a mess. There were dozens of papers piled on the desk, and Alm had to use both arms to move a stack of opened letters that he had left on one of his spare chairs. The other had two armfuls of letters still unopened. Mathilda and Lukas began to help as well, making as best a clearing as they could. Lukas was able to get a better look at the mourning king as they worked. Alm’s body, from what he could judge from the subdued finery and the blacks and grays of his clothes, did not appear as worn as his features. That meant he was keeping up with his physical training, instead of shut-in at all hours. A small relief. 

“You know, you could have a scribe go through some of these.” Mathilda said, holding one of the letters and reading the front of it. “All of these have the same content in them.”

Alm snatched the letter from Mathilda’s hands, placing it back on the unopened pile. “They all took time to write their condolences. It would be callous of me not to read them.” 

With how much paper crowded the study, Lukas wondered if there was more to it than what Alm said. Still, he and Mathilda sat down, and Lukas told Alm his cover story. The king looked interested, but slightly confused.

“The library and castle records are open to you for research, but why the interest in Zofian kings up to Lima IV’s reign?” 

Lukas remained silent for a little while, even though he had already planned an answer for that. “... I believe the people of Valentia know what good rulers are now, but they shouldn’t forget the ones that are not as good. It would be awful if hundreds of years from now, someone in power made similar mistakes, and didn’t understand the repercussions.”

“I doubt someone could make as dire mistakes as he did.” Alm’s eyes narrowed, though Lukas knew it wasn’t at him. “Though, I’m sure you’ll do well with it. I’ll add a copy to the library when it’s finished.” 

“You’re too kind,” Lukas smiled, before continuing. “I don’t intend to simply stay here without doing my part. One of my past pupils has asked me to oversee some training exercises. If they’ll have me, I like to go back to some of my regular duties to earn my keep.” 

“Really?” Alm was surprised at the request, and Lukas felt Mathilda’s armor clad foot nudge hard against his. This had not been part of the plan, but he didn’t think that remaining in the library would draw the king out. He had to have a varied schedule if there was a chance at catching Alm’s interest in things outside of his work. 

“Yes. I have kept up with my training, if you’re worried about that. I suppose it’s ingrained into my being.” Even when there was no war to be fought, old habits died hard. Thankfully, despite the occasional aches and groans in his joints, his body hadn’t given up yet. 

“I’m sure they’ll be honored to have you.” Alm said. “Welcome back, Lukas.” 

Lukas bowed his head. “Thank you, my king.” 

“And I thought you got out of that habit ages ago.” He joked. “I told everyone back from the Deliverance to just keep calling me Alm in private. Titles are far too awkward.”

“Sorry, a slip of the tongue.” Lukas replied. Mathilda made a similar bow of her head. They both did so out of respect, despite Alm’s qualms to it. 

“I’ll look over your reports in the morning. Please try to get some rest as well, Alm.” Mathilda said as she got to her feet. Alm nodded, but the way his eyes went back to the papers, he had barely heard her. They left, and didn’t talk until they left the royal wing and was far enough away not to be overheard.

“You were right, he has changed.” Lukas broke the silence. “It seems like a strange thing, but how different he looked gave me a shock.”

“His hair whitened at an accelerated rate after the Queen died.” Mathilda reported dully. “We tried to convince him to see physicians, but he said he didn’t feel ill. You can’t force a king to get a check up.” 

“He looks more like Emperor Rudolf than himself.” Lukas answered, and Mathilda nodded. 

“Yes. But don’t tell anyone else that. Most people still don’t know the full story about… that.” Mathilda shifted her position, turning to see if they were being watched, before replying. “Outside of the north, Rudolph is still seen as nothing more than a tyrant. Alm was Zofia’s hero, so the people easily accepted him as king despite his Rigelian heritage.”

It was the very same heritage that made it possible to unify Rigel after Duma’s defeat. It became seen as rightful succession rather than invasion. At least, that’s what Lukas had first thought. Now, he fully realized that both nations were too run down, too hungry, to keep fighting in the end. And the restoration process had taken years to accomplish. 

“Also, what was that promise back there? There are enough knights to train the troops.” Mathilda added, returning back Lukas’s other request. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose I’ve learned from experience that doing nothing to earn your place does not make people obliged to take care of you.” Lukas replied. “This will help him, I promise.” 

Mathilda didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t say more, instead walking with him to the knights’ barracks. There he found a comfortable, one-room apartment. It had a small hearth, a wardrobe, a chest for storage, a desk and chair, and a bed where his belongings had been placed. There was even a glass window off to the side, now shut to keep out the late-fall chill. His lance, still wrapped in canvas, was leaning against the wall. He undid the string keeping it covered, and the gleaming red jewel gleamed at him. After staring at it for a moment, to see if it changed in some way and finding none, he turned his attention to unpacking the rest of his things.

(~)

The next morning after breakfast, Lukas went to the library, looking through it’s stacks. Though he didn’t find much his first run through, there were a few volumes of history that piqued his interest. Some even held quite a few notes and commentaries in the margins. He returned to his room to find a message from Maurice, asking if he could come to exercises this afternoon. Lukas, dressing in his usual training garb, walked to the training grounds to find a group of a dozen or so young people standing or leaning against the wall while Maurice sparred with one of them. They both held training lances. Lukas stepped out into the yard, but remained silent as the spar finished with the young man fell to the ground. Maurice offered a hand and hoisted him back up, before noticing Lukas. He flashed an excited grin and walked over. 

“Glad you could make it.” He said, then began a brief introduction. 

Lukas nearly smiled when he saw the shock pass across their faces when they were given his name, and then a fair few of them asked to spar. He declined, but then suggested to Maurice they do some pair exercises. During that, he gave advice when he noticed problems with posture or grip. About an hour in, however, he had grabbed a training lance of his own, and joined along in the exercises. Most of them still needed practice, but there were a handful that were able to stand their ground against his jabs. He was so focused on guarding against one of the trainee’s blows he didn’t noticed that the king had made his way into the training yard. 

“Looks like you haven’t lost your touch, Sir Lukas.” Alm’s voice called him out of his match, forcing his to block with his head turned. He wasn’t prepared, and her attack made him lose ground. She stopped when she saw who he was speaking to, and joined Maurice and the others in a salute. “Though it looks like she had you on the ropes.”

“I think your interruption gave her a little edge.” Lukas countered with a smile. It seemed his plan was already having some effect. Alm was wearing a similar black and gray ensemble, but he had left his ceremonial crown off, and breeches for training.

“Th-thank you for coming to the training grounds today, your Majesty.” Guessing by Maurice’s stutter, this wasn’t a regular event. 

“I was passing by and was interested to see the future knights of Valentia in action.” Alm replied. “Apologies for my interruption, though.” 

“N-not at all!” 

“Maurice, perhaps we could ask his Majesty to give us a demonstration?” Lukas asked, though he looked at Alm as he said it.

“Really? But I thought all of you were training with lances.” Alm blinked.

Maurice bowed his head again. “It would be quite helpful to see how the master of a different weapon works. We all would be overjoyed to see your work. Uh, your Majesty.” 

Alm walked over and grabbed a practice sword from the weapons rack, turning towards the trainee Lukas had been sparring with a moment before.

“What’s your name?”

“Talis, your Majesty.” She bowed her head. Her eyes were clear, and she had a soldier’s stance. A trainee awaiting a soon to come promotion, Lukas was sure. He stepped aside so Alm took his previous position. 

“Let’s see if I can handle a spar with you, Talis.” Alm said, and judging by his stance, he was speaking seriously. Both of them nodded towards the other, and they began. Alm, had not lost a fraction of the skill he had when he was young. His movements were quick a precise, and he soon had Talis on the defensive. However, she kept coming back, blocking his blows with trained precision, her eyes in near constant movement to keep up with the king’s attacks. The spar lasted for two minutes, one more longer than Lukas had anticipated, before Alm had lunged forward and made Talis break her stance. A few more jabs, and the trainee fell back on the ground. 

However, Alm didn’t stop. He was raising his sword in the air, his eyes glazed over as his movements looked like he was preparing Scendscale-

A sharp crack filled the air as the practice sword made contact with the handle of Lukas’s training lance. He had stepped between the king and Talis in time. The training yard was silent.

Lukas’s stance slackened when he saw the glaze dissipate. Alm, from wherever he had been, was back. He stepped back, reeling from what had almost happened. 

“I’m…”

“I’m sorry, Talis. We should have warned you first about our plan.” Lukas interrupted, turning to the trainee as she staggered to her feet, face ashen. She must have subconsciously realized the danger she had been in. “His Majesty was was doing a demonstration, and I was meant to come in at the last minute. I let my guard down, however.”  
Maurice seemed to understand where Lukas was coming from. “In battle, one must always be prepared for the unexpected. This was another lesson for you all.” 

Their words had given Alm enough time to regain his composure, as he walked over and bowed his head to Talis in apology. He did the same to Maurice, before meeting Lukas’s eyes. He opened his mouth, then shut it tight. He walked away from the training grounds, leaving everyone in his wake.


	3. Getting and Giving

It had been two weeks since Lukas had last had a conversation with Alm. They had crossed paths in the halls and exchanged greetings when doing their respective duties, but nothing beyond that. The king seemed to get more woebegone each time, and shied away from public appearances. Mathilda was growing impatient. 

“He was happy to see you, why the change?” Mathilda asked him point blank one afternoon when she had him cornered in the library. They were the only ones there, but she still kept her voice low. 

Lukas had not told her about the near-tragedy at the training grounds, nor was he planning to. “He’s a busy man. A king has many duties that must be done, and I can’t simply invite him to join me for tea every day.”

“Oh, you and Luthier with your tea,” Mathilda sighed, but appeared placated enough to look at him with a smirk and tease. “Both of you act like old men.” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Mathilda, we’re all old now.” Lukas said, his eyes shifting back down to his book and trying to find where he had left off. 

“Speak for yourself.” Mathilda answered smoothly. She had grown used to his more barbed responses, which was something Lukas found strange. “I followed Chancellor Mycen’s old regimen, and I feel like a woman half my age.”

If Lukas’s assumptions were correct, she would probably live as long as he did as well. Mycen had retired in his eighties to Ram village, then lived into his nineties. It was quite the feat. 

Still, his attention went back to the historical text in front of him. There was still a lot of ground to cover, as his research had only taken him back three generations back so far, and all the ones he could find were stories of hedonism and greed. Lima IV’s grandfather, Hyginus, lived in the plentiful Zofia of old, but that was not enough to sate his desire for more. He attempted to expand into the desert outlands on the eastern side of the continent, attempting to take it. He had assumed that it would be a simple undertaking, but his soldiers were not prepared for the sands or the slave traders that dwelled there. Many were killed in the expansion project, not only knights, but the builders and craftsmen Hyginus had brought with him to build his outpost. If he recalled correctly, the kingdom of mercenaries had constructed their castle on the old building’s ruins. Most people now called it the Vagabond’s Citadel. 

Lukas took out his scrap of parchment and jot down a few notes and pages he could reference again later, before Mathilda took the book from his desk. “Hey-”

“The festival market has begun, and now would be a perfect time to gather all the things on Luthier’s list.” Mathilda replied calmly. “Which I assumed you haven’t done yet, have you?”

Unfortunately, Mathilda was right. He had yet to make many travels into the capital’s trade district. It would still be weeks before the first snows arrived. While not as bad as northern Valentia, if he held off much longer the goods would not arrive until spring. 

“Very well, I’ll go.” Lukas got to his feet tucking his notes into a leather portfolio. It was well-made, the leather well-oiled and cared for, and also had a few compartments sewn inside its folds. It had been left resting against his door three mornings ago, with no note. 

“Wonderful. I recommend trying the mulled wine.” Mathilda replied. She did not seem to take notice of the portfolio, which meant it had not been from her. Lukas had suspected as much, but he wanted to make sure. “It’ll keep you warm as you look through the wares.” 

“Care to join me?” Lukas asked. “I wouldn’t mind the company.” 

Mathilda’s eyebrows rose at his request. “Well, that’s a surprise.” 

“What is?”

“You asking me to join you for a day at the market it something I would have never expected from you.” Mathilda replied. Lukas decided not to take the comment as an insult, since it was rather on the mark. He truly did not go out with friends that often. 

“If you’re worried about rumors, I understand.” Lukas said. Castles were famous with how far and swiftly gossip traveled, and he had overheard some recruits talking about their joint arrival. Soon something else would catch their fancy, he supposed. 

“Oh please. I already know you have no interest in women.” Mathilda said frankly. It was more complicated than that, but Lukas did not object to the statement. “And everyone knows I plan to remain a widow for the rest of my days.”

“It’s alright. Still, I could use an extra pair of arms to help carry.” Lukas asked.

“Ah, so the truth comes out.” Mathilda laughed, but shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but duty calls. I only came to get you out of your paper cave while there was a break in meetings. We’re talking about security for the Solstice ball. More noble families will be arriving, and the castle guard should be ready for their... rambunctiousness.” 

“Oh, I wish you luck.” Lukas had nearly forgotten about the ball. On the darkest day of the year, it was customary for the castle to hold a ball, celebrating the past year. However, with so many people attending for the festivities, it wasn’t unheard of for brawls, trysts, and regular displays of drunkenness to occur. He wondered how much it would change with the Queen’s passing. 

“Make sure you put in a word with the tailors, since you’ll have to attend as well.” Mathilda said. Lukas attempted to school his expression, but the general rolled her eyes at his veiled distaste. “Come now, you stood up a funeral, you can’t get out of this one. Do I have to drag you to a fitting myself?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Lukas bowed his head to Mathilda and went back to his quarters to retrieve his cloak and the list.

(~)

“Good day, milord! Care to look at some of our wares?” A new vendor hawked, their face alight with a smile made for business. “We have the freshest fish in the capital!”

“No, thank you” Lukas replied, trying to keep a grip on the parcels under his arm. A kindly woman had earlier tied them together with twine, but it was still a bit of a balancing act to keep them in his grip and the list in his hands. 

“You sure? I can give you a good discount!” 

Another vendor from the stall next door stuck their head out, holding a bright green gourd in her hands. “Those fish are anything but fresh. Come, milord! This is the perfect time of season for my fresh grown veggies!” 

“Haha! ‘Yours?’ You say it like you grew them yourself, but we all know that is a pack of pegasus dung!” The fishmonger fired back, and then the pair got into a squabble that gave Lukas the chance to walk away. He had forgotten how hectic such gatherings could be, especially at the end of harvest time. 

He took out the list to check over it once more. Everything had been purchased besides ingredients for the cat medicine, since he had not found a proper apothecary stall in his search. Most of the goods on display were food, drink, and toys for the upcoming festivities. The sun was going down, and more people began to crowd the marketplace as the work day was coming to an end. Lukas decided to escape the growing mass to see along search had led him through the various stalls to brick and mortar shops. Lukas passed groups of friends, family and couples along his walk through the streets. All of them were living in their own worlds and lives, mingled but separate from anyone else. Lukas tried to recall a time when he walked beside someone on an errand. Usually it was Forsyth, and Python would join them as well, before the latter started his own militia in the borderlands. Whether to drink at a tavern, or look at the booksellers, there was always a new place to find.

Those times… he had felt content, hadn’t he? 

Lukas broke from his musings, however, when he saw a board with a mortar and pestle painted on the front, hanging above the door of a shop. It was the universal sign of an apothecary. He tucked the list in his coat pocket, then using his free hand to open the door. A small bell chimed out as he walked across the threshold, entering a room crowded with jars and potted plants, filled with concentrated herbal scents. Near the back was a sturdy counter, covered with scales, tongs, and other measuring equipment. Behind it was a young girl, sitting on a stool. She was probably around ten years of age, and had her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Though, appearing bored at first, her back straightened when she heard the bell, and was now looking at him.

“Good day-”

“Good day, sir!” The girl interrupted in a boisterous tone, the same one all the previous vendors had. She hopped from her stool and walked from behind the counter. “Welcome to my secret shop, where I have anything you need!” 

Lukas blinked. “A… secret shop?” 

“Yes, valued patron!” She answered with a sly smile, eyeing the packages under his arm. “However, I’m also a reputable purveyor and buyer of various other items if you would like to trade-”

“Anna, I thought I told you not to leave your spot.” A man’s voice called out, making the girl’s spiel stutter. Lukas looked above the girl’s head to see a man around his own age walk from behind a curtain. Lukas was about to respond with a question as to whether or not he was in the wrong place, when he got a clear look at the man’s face, still smoothed of blemishes, with his hair in a long side plait braid. “An apprentice needs to learn the ropes before they can even think of speaking to a customer like- that. Oh.”

Lukas raised free hand and smiled. “Hello, Leon.” 

Leon’s face broke into a grin. “My, my, if it isn’t Sir Lukas!” He strolled out into the shop space, rubbing the top of Anna’s hair as he passed. “What brings you to our-one of three- fine establishments on this lovely day!”

“I’m actually looking for some ingredients for a friend. His cat’s joints have been aching in the cold.” Lukas replied, pulling out his list. “Would you happen to still have some in stock?” 

“Let me have a look here.” Leon took the list, scanning it for probably a moment than usual to try and discern the crossed out items besides herbs from it, then turning to look down at Anna. The girl was trying her best to get her hair back in place.

“Get the jar on the third shelf from the left, and the first shelf in the middle. I can handle to rest from here.” 

Anna still looked put out, but did as she was told. Leon then began to grab various jars from the front shelves, taking them to counter and measuring them out as he hummed under his breath. “You want separate packaging I’m assuming?”

“Yes, that would be preferable. And if you have any spare boxes that would also be helpful.” Lukas answered.

“So, what brings a stud like you back to the city?” Leon asked calmly. “I thought you were running a school now.”

“I’m taking a sabbatical for some research. I’ve been using the castle library.” Lukas replied smoothly, ignoring the quip. “So, you’ve expanded your business?” 

“Yes. This is our third storefront. My Eli is unfortunately at the warehouse today.” Leon sighed, his eyes softening, before going back to business. “Otherwise, he would have been happy to show you a new shipment of novels that came in.” 

“I’ll be sure to come by again and have a look.” Lukas answered, watching Leon’s deft hands sort through the dried plants with ease. He could still scars on the man’s palms from his days wielding a bow. It was only 

“How’s our mutual friend Python?” Leon asked. “Freezing his ass right now, I’d expect.”

Lukas fist clenched, but he then let it go slack before he answered. “He died, actually. About three years ago.”

Leon’s hands stalled, looking up from his work. Lukas didn’t know how to feel when the man looked at him with such pity. “...I’m sorry to hear that, Lukas. That wasn’t long after Forsyth-?”

“Hardly six months, in fact.” Lukas replied calmly. “They both went doing what they loved. What more can a person ask for?”

Leon went back to sorting at a slower pace, and Lukas felt sorry for making the discussion tense. He shifted his attention to the curtain. “So, Anna is your apprentice?”

“More like ward at this point.” Leon deadpanned. “She’s the daughter of some merchant friends of Eli’s, and they dropped her off with us while they went off traveling the globe. But, I have to admit, Anna does have a knack for selling goods, and helping me out keeps her too busy to concoct her schemes.” 

“Well, she’ll learn from the best.” Lukas replied. Leon smirked at the compliment, but said nothing else when Anna returned with the jars, watching Leon carefully as he finished sorting them into paper packages so not to cross-contaminate, then had Anna wrap them up while Lukas paid. Leon put in an extra pouch into the set before anna could cover the box 

“A little something on the house. Cats go crazy for it.” Leon winked, while Anna re-tied the parcel with his set for easier travel. “And do stop by anytime. It’ll be good to catch up.” 

“Don’t be a stranger!” Anna piped up with a grin. 

Lukas bowed his head with a smile. “Very well, until then.” 

After Lukas left Leon’s store, he began the trek back to the castle gates, thoughts wandering. Leon had made a good life for himself after the war, retiring early from active duty to work as a merchant. The archer had a keen eye for the value of things, and his renown grew wide in only a few years. Part of his success was due to his connections with the mercenary kingdom, as well as his friendship with the Queen. Lukas wondered how Leon had taken the news of her passing, whether he should have asked or not. Well, he still had months left in the capital, so he could always come back another time. Having the opportunity to go see someone in town sounded like a break he would need down the line. Mathilda was becoming a friend of sorts for Lukas, but he had much more interactions with Leon in when they had both been knights. 

It was closer to evening when he finally returned to the castle. Maurice was on guard duty, and had offered to help him with his parcels, but Lukas had waived him off. That was an action he was beginning to regret, as his arms grew more and more sore. He had spent days carrying a lance, how was a few mere boxes causing such a strain? 

“Almost there…” Lukas muttered to himself, finally reaching his room’s floor. Just then, a cat entered from a connected hallway. It stopped a few yards ahead of Lukas, its big yellow eyes staring at him from a thick coat of gray fur. “Oh, hello there.”

The cat meowed, and instead of running away, walked towards him, so close that he couldn’t see it over the parcels in his arms. The cat’s body vibrated as it began to circle around his legs. Luthier’s cats, while friendly to him, had never reacted this way before. Lukas was having trouble moving his legs forward. “Come now, I don’t have anything for you.”

But then the cat stopped circling around his legs and made a leap for his boxes. He stumbled at the added weight and jostling, and his feet tripped forward. The twine holding the boxes together snapped. Lukas pushed his hands forward, ready for a fall that, surprisingly, never came. Hands grasped his waist, pulling him back from hitting the floor. He turned, finding himself eye to eye with Alm.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His hands kept a firm grip on Lukas, making sure he remained centered. 

Lukas smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring and hid his own confusion. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save.” 

“I can’t say the same for your packages.” Lukas turned to look down to see that all the gifts had landed in a pile around their feet, with the cat sniffing at the smallest one. Alm removed his hands from Lukas’s waist and quickly scooped the cat up as it hissed in protest.

“Oh hush, Percy. This is what you get for running out and making trouble.” Alm replied. Lukas started to crouch to pick up the packages, before Alm kneeled down him. “Wait, let me help. Do you mind holding him?” He raised the cat up, a hand on the scruff of it’s neck so it couldn’t escape. 

“I… suppose not?” Lukas answered, reaching his arm out to hold the gray mass of fur, which thankfully did not decide to struggle in the exchange. “So, this cat belongs to you?”

“Actually, he’s my daughter’s,” Alm replied. He quickly gathered the boxes, hooking them evenly under both arms before standing back up. “We- well, I, offered to watch over him while she’s gone.” 

The cat nuzzled into his neck, fur soft and well-cared for. So, the princess was a “cat person” like her parents. “He seems like quite a trouble maker.”

“You better believe it.” Alm chuckled. “He’s escaped three times already. I’ve had to get help from the guards to try and corral him back, which really eats into my work time. Would you like me to take these to your room?” 

“That would be helpful. Thank you.” Lukas replied, and his smile grew when Alm walked to the correct door, without any of Lukas’s input. “By the way, that was a beautiful portfolio you left. It works well for keeping my notes in order.”

Alm mouth was agape as Lukas opened the door with Percy tuck under his arm. “How did you know it was me?” 

“Well, General Mathilda didn’t react when I showed it to her, so that lowers the list quite a bit. Also, you were able to find my room without any directions.” Lukas answered. Alm walked through the open door when directed, setting the packages gingerly on top of the clothes chest. 

The king sighed, looking comically dejected. “And I thought I was being clever.” 

“It was kind of you, but I don’t understand what prompted such a gift giving.” Lukas replied, trying to hand Percy back to him, only for the cat’s claws to hook onto the fabric of his vest. His smile turned into a grimace.

“It looks like Percy doesn’t want you to let him go.” Alm said, apologetic. “If you aren’t busy right now, would you like to join us for tea? I got out of my meetings to try and find the rascal, and I don’t think I can handle anymore paperwork for the day.” 

Lukas wondered how many coincidences could pile up all in one day, but also realized this was his chance to talk with Alm in private, and ask him questions that he had wanted to for weeks. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit shorter, but at least getting to a point where the two can talk one on one! Thank you everyone for all the support, comments and kudos on this fic so far! 
> 
> As for the Anna that showed up this chapter- well, Valentia was missing an Anna, so here she is, still learning her craft!


	4. Discussions

Lukas inhaled the fragrance wafting out of his teacup. He enjoyed the spiced aroma, with hints of citrus that passed his nose. “This smells remarkable. I don’t think I’ve had this kind before.” 

“It’s based off an old recipe popular in the north.” Alm answered, pouring some in a cup for himself. “Winnifred decided to add some orange juice to it on a whim one day, and it worked out so well that we’ve had it as a fall staple ever since.”

Winnifred curtsied, looking proud from the compliment. “Will that be all, your Majesty?”

“Yes, thank you.” Alm dismissed her. She closed the door behind her, leaving them alone with their tea and small array of dainties. 

Percy was taking a catnap at Lukas’s feet, enjoying the late afternoon sunlight that came from windows covering three of the rooms four walls. It was a space quite unlike any Lukas had seen before: more of garden than a tea room, as the corners were decorated with plants along the outer edges of the table and chairs. Most of them seemed a bit worse for wear, drooping in their pots even with the extra access to sunlight, and shelter from the chill outside. 

They both sipped at their cups, enjoying the silence for a few minutes. Lukas decided to wait for Alm to break it, turning to look out at the view of gathering clouds in the distance, alight with the sun’s setting rays. 

“I… wanted to give you the portfolio as an apology.” Alm’s voice turned his attention from the window to the king. He cradled the cup in his hands, looking down into its contents. “It was on a bit of a whim, after I finished training for the night. That’s why I didn’t give it to you face to face.” 

“I see,” Lukas nodded, but felt he needed to prompt more if their conversation were to keep going. “Why did you feel the need to apologize?”

Alm sighed, his head rising up. “That day with the recruits, when I almost- no, when I did lose control, you had to stop me from doing something terrible. I’m sorry that I put you in that position.” 

“It’s fine. Instinct kicked in for both of us.” Lukas assured, trying to ease his friend’s guilt. “I feel few soldiers escape mental scarring from their time in battle, and those play into their reactions to things even outside of dangerous situations. That was one of those times.”

“But something like that has never happened to me before,” Alm replied, but then corrected himself. “at least, not outside of my dreams.” 

“The mind is a tricky beast.” Lukas said, taking a moment to think about how best to phrase his next words. “Perhaps stress has caused those memories to resurface.” 

Alm understood what he meant. “...Yeah, that might be it.”

Lukas decided it would be best to try his luck further, seeing if Alm would open up more. “You said you train during the night? Loss of sleep can contribute to such stress.” 

“No, I’ve trained at night for years now.” Alm shook his head. “It’s easier to concentrate when there aren’t any people watching.” He set his cup down and shifted his legs as he leaned forward in his seat, balancing his elbow on his knee. The gesture made Lukas recall a memory of sitting similarly around campfires during the Deliverance, and it filled him with a faint nostalgia. “Lately, though, I still feel like no matter what I do, there’s this pent up energy that won’t get out… which leads to me not getting much sleep.” 

“Ah, so there is a connection.” Lukas said, before taking another sip of tea. 

“I… yes.” Alm answered. “Lukas, have you had… similar experiences?”

A flash of red, an awful roar that sounded more like a scream, the scent of death threatening to engulf everything and everyone-

Lukas ignored the ache the flared against his side, a phantom pain for scars still there but long since healed. He scanned the plate of dainties set in the middle to accompany their tea, and picked up a piece of gingerbread. “A few. They’ve dimmed as time’s gone by, though.” 

Alm did not look convinced at his reply, but didn’t press further, instead grabbing a small egg sandwich off the plate. He had never had much of a sweet tooth. 

Lukas thought about how to proceed. Keeping on like this would only lead more close calls. If Alm was only facing himself, there was little challenge in it. So, after a minute, he came to a decision. “You know, I’m a bit out of touch in my own training. Perhaps we could assist one another.”

Alm mouth went slightly slack mid-chew, before he quickly finished chewing before. “You mean… you’ll practice with me?”

“I can’t promise every night, but a few times a week, a sparring match sounds like just the thing after a day in the library,” Lukas answered, dipping the gingerbread into his tea. “Besides, it’ll stop me from struggling so much against the recruits. Don’t want to let them know I’ve grown soft in the middle.”

“What nonsense.” Alm laughed, it sounded clear and genuine. “None of them would dare cross you, and would be fools to think they could.” 

“You put so much faith in my abilities.” Lukas stated. “I nearly buckled from your attack. I think it’s you who hasn’t lost skill over the years.”

But Alm shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. Well, yes, to your skill, but more… your character. I don’t think any reasonable person would find you in the wrong, not when it comes to strategy, and you have years of experience. Your mind is as sharp as your lance, maybe even sharper.”

Lukas felt a bit taken back at the compliment. “Is that so?” 

“Hey, what’s with a response like that?” Alm frowned, looking worried that his words were taken in such an unusual way. 

“Forgive me. I suppose I’m unused to receiving compliments on my intellect in regards to warfare.” Lukas replied. 

“Does it offend you?” 

“No, not that. You could never offend me, Alm.” Lukas reassured, and he said the truth. Lukas looked down at his teacup to find a part of his gingerbread had broken an dissolved into the liquid. He set it aside. “You are far too kind for that.” 

“Kind…” Alm frowned, perhaps a bit perplexed himself, though Lukas didn’t understand why. “Hm, I suppose most see me as a “hard” man, so that’s also a bit of a surprise. Celica is… she, she was thought of as “kind,” and she was. So, I… I suppose I am a bit awkward with the distinction.”

Unknowingly, Lukas had reopened fresh wounds. Part of him thought if he should change the subject, but then again, perhaps that had happened to Alm so much already that he avoided the topic. So, he thought of another strategy.

“Could you tell me more about Celica?” Lukas began, and Alm’s shoulders tensed. “...I never got to know her beyond ‘Queen Anthiese,’” and while I know she was a remarkable and fair ruler, but I would like to know what she was like as a person. That is, if you are comfortable with talking about her.” 

Alm turned his gaze away, looking around the room at their surroundings. “Celica worked with artisans for months, designing this room. She loved watching things grow, but this room wasn’t just for her.” He stood up and beckoned Lukas to as well. Lukas rose from his chair, walking over to stand beside Alm. Alm’s hand waved to one side of the castle grounds, in the gardens. Though most of the area was brown and dead in winter, there were three, see through structures that Lukas realized were made of glass, and held seeable greenery. 

“This atrium ended up a success, and Celica decided to keep building, trying to find ways to reproduce Mila’s capabilities once more.” Alm said, sounding proud. “She hoped that one day, every village could have a glass house, and make things grow even in times of famine.”

Lukas blinked, and for the first time, felt the hollowness in his stomach, as the world lost a mind that could create such a feat and how the power to enact it. “Is it still possible?”

“Conrad has been trying to work out a budget, but to make it a reality would mean more taxes on the people.” Alm frowned. “So, the glass houses only remain on the estate.”

Lukas continued to look at the glass houses, his mind starting to work, plans turning in his head. “Could the artisans send their methods to Luthier?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like one built for my school.” Lukas replied. “Most of the children that attend come from families that know how to work the land, and are quite skilled in making things grow.” He remembered when one child showed him the potted plant small white flowers they had been growing by the windowsill in their bedroom, another time when he caught a group of students trying their best to hide the rapidly multiplying tomato vine they had set up in an empty plot of earth in a free space of the flower bed. Unlike him, who would probably make a plant shrivel the moment he touched it, these children had what people called the Earth Mother’s hands. “If I build one there, and they see how it is made, then they can take that knowledge back to their families. It might be too expensive for most to build an entire house made of glass, but it could be a start.”

A bemused smile crossed Alm’s face. “... Your mind never stops, does it?” 

“Isn’t that the same for anyone’s mind? If it stopped, they would be dead.” Lukas pointed out, but smiled once Alm sighed. “Celica’s plan is a superb one, and one that would benefit many. It would be a crime not to at least try to enact the progress she made.” 

“You do have a point. It’s just… kind of a whiplash with how you work out these ideas sometimes.” Alm replied. 

“Now now, less about me, more about Celica,” Lukas coaxed. “You’ve shown me one of her personal works, but what was she like?”

“ She was stubborn.” Alm replied. “Probably one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met, but it was for things she thought were right. Though it then it caused us to butt heads on a lot of occasions. Some of them were over decisions on how to… rule, I suppose. Though, there were times when it was more lighthearted.” 

“Tell me one.” 

Alm’s eyes regained some more shine as he went into an escapade where early into their rule, Celica and Alm had disagreed over what color their daughter’s dress would be for her Blessing. In the combined Faith’s doctrine, it was customary for children to be conferred Blessings from both Duma and Mila, strength and gentleness evenly. Alm wanted blue for her dress, Celica wanted red. 

“Ah… I remember hearing about that.” Lukas smiled. “The soldiers were taking bets on who would succeed.” 

“We argued for weeks over it.” Alm laughed, now thinking fondly of the memory. “We even made the tailors create two different dresses, and then we made Tierney “choose” by trying both on. And, like how you would expect a toddler to react- she vomited on the red and soiled herself in the blue. Both of us were a little shocked, but it made us realize the absurdity of how we were acting.”

Lukas smiled. Petty arguments had a way of becoming stuck in your memory. Though he had few, he remembered one time when Forsyth got into a tizzy over him not attending a social event. Lukas had argued that his presence wasn’t necessary, but Forsyth had countered that had not been the point. They had separated after that without exchanging apologies, and Python had to intervene and tell them they were both acting like mules, when that was his job. His smile widened. 

“Does it sound that ridiculous?” 

“Haha, well, it reminded me of a dispute I’ve had in the past.” Lukas replied, before getting into his own story. They continued to laugh, and Lukas felt uncharacteristically humorous. He had not laughed so much in such a long time. Old memories must do that, especially when you shared them. The sun had fully set and the tea had grown cold when they returned to their seats, but Percy had taken Lukas’s spot in the interval. He scratched under the cat’s chin, making him purr, but little else. 

“I think this is a sign that I should take my leave.” Lukas told Alm. 

“Oh, you’re too soft on him.” Alm replied, but also leaned forward to rub behind the cat’s ears. “But I won’t keep you. You’ll have to prepare those gifts to be sent. I’ll make sure those plans are sent with it.” 

“Thank you, but make sure you get some rest as well.” Lukas answered, feeling confident to voice his thoughts. “...Even if it doesn’t always work, sometimes it’s best just to lay there, and let your body rest, even when your mind can’t.” 

“Don’t think you can get out of sparring practice by lulling me to sleep.” Alm joked in a way that Lukas could tell was an attempt to deflect, and then Alm, the man, not the king, sighed. “I will try. I promise to at least try.” 

“Thank you.” Lukas raised his hand, giving Alm’s shoulder a squeeze, and felt a little jolt of concern when Alm leaned into the touch. Lukas felt the ends of his hair tickle his fingers, only for the moment to pass. Alm quickly, almost violently, moved away. Lukas decided not to speak of it. They finished their spoken goodbyes, and then he left. 

Later that night, when Lukas had finished putting his gifts together, he planned on getting ready for bed. However, his eyes caught on the gleam of the lance, resting in its corner. He had forgotten about it when Alm had come in, but now he could not escape its presence. He moon filtering through his window caught it in shadow, losing any color it had. Lukas’s hand reached for it, before stopping, clutching at the fabric on the side of his torso. 

It was mere superstition, but sometimes he felt the weapon was staring back at him. 

Lukas instead changed into his training gear, and made his way to the training grounds. Against what he hoped, but what he had expected, Alm was there, practicing with a blunted sword. A practice lance had been taken out of storage, and set on the benches. 

Alm halted his exercises, turning to face him. He didn’t say anything, only nodded. Lukas picked up the lance, approaching him, before taking his own defensive stance. Then, they began with the type of language, even after all of these years, they both knew best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I had grad school papers and a few holiday exchange fics to focus on before working on this. The next chapter will be Lukas's least favorite thing: a ball. Let's see how these two handle it.


	5. The Longest Night of the Year

The Solstice ball was an event of pomp and circumstance that most of the nobility in Valentia said could not be paralleled. That is, from Lukas’s experience, is what was said until the next seasonal celebration came to pass. He gave a brief tug to his cravat, trying to lesson how constricting the cloth felt around his neck as more and more people dressed in fine evening wear entered the ballroom. Since he had stuck close to the sides of the grandiose ballroom, Lukas was far enough away that he could not distinguish faces in the crowd, though that might be an effect of the slight dimness of the candlelit room, or the tiredness in his eyes. He had spent most of the day working on research in the library, and had lost track of the time until Mathilda came in and ordered him to get dressed in his suit. 

He wondered if he could go to the refreshments station and see if there were any sweets set out, but then thought better of it. From what he could remember of these types of get-togethers with nobility, refreshments is where the most awkward conversations occurred, especially when all you wanted was to get a small dainty or two for yourself and be on your way. Before, he had been able to retire off to the side in the company of Forsyth, when he wasn’t on active duty or a campaign. He had sent a message to Leon a few days earlier to ask whether or not he would be attending as a former knight of the Brotherhood. However, the reply he got was that Anna had fell under the weather, so Leon was forced to spend the holiday playing nurse. Though, based on the small details Leon had given about her condition, Lukas had a suspicion that the former archer did not mind taking care of his apprentice. 

More people had come inside, but Lukas knew that Alm had not yet arrived. He would come in from a side entrance once the onslaught of bodies had stopped ushering in. That was one upside to being the king he supposed. However, he could see Mathilda’s tall figure among the crowd, dressed in her formal uniform. Her head swiveled in his direction, and raised her gloved hand, keeping it aloft in the ladylike manner of telling him to join society. 

He sighed, knowing that it would be too easy if he could hover along the outskirts of the ball for the evening, before he tempered his expression to a well-meaning half-smile, and walked forward. Thankfully, Mathilda and her current party were not in the thick of the crowd, so very little polite nods and empty “wonderful to see yous” had to pass his lips, before he came to her group, and people he had to admit, were more welcoming to see. 

“Lukas! You should have sent word that you had returned to the capital,” Clair exclaimed. The hair pinned up around her head had grown a bit thinner, but her face was still bright with grace and enthusiasm. He had heard from Mathilda that she had only formally stepped down from her position as head of the Pegasus corps last year. “I would have sent you a care package.”

Lukas’s half-smile inched up. “Good evening, Clair. I did not want to trouble you about it, but that is a nice thought.” 

Clair waved her hand with characteristic finesse, verbally giving him a “perish the thought!” 

“A vintage bottle from the estate’s vineyard or some fresh butter! I have been experimenting with mare’s milk, and think I’ve made a breakthrough!” 

Ah, so Clair’s fascination with the more daily aspects of farm life had not dwindled. He swore he heard a short chuckle come from Mathilda, and Gray let out a hearty laugh. Despite the fine velvet waistcoat he was sporting, the man’s gait was lax with the same ease he had all the way back in Ram Village. 

“Come on, Clair. Lukas is in the big city right now. The last thing he wants to think about is the… lovely work that you do at the estate.” 

“A well-timed save, darling. You’ve learned.” Clair replied, patting his arm. “Still, I will send you something from my favorite year and some root vegetables when we return.” Lukas still had trouble figuring out how the two made their marriage work, but from the five children they have and how easily their rapport flowed in the exchange, their match was more well met than he had expected. Clair’s brown eyes turned back from her husband, however, to apparently another person she recognized in the crowd, and Lukas did as well. 

A woman dressed in muted yellows with jewels hanging around her neck walked forward, unable to hide the slightly crooked tooth in her smile. Delthea had done well for herself in the capital, achieving her lifelong dream to marry well and be pampered to her heart’s content. She looked slightly more round in the middle than he had last seen her, but then again, so was he. It would take many more sparring matches with Alm to reach his former prime. 

“Clair!” Delthea exclaimed, nearly bouncing forward to embrace her friend, quickly going into a conversation about their respective youngest children and leaving the three others in their group in the dust. “It’s fabulous to see you! How’s Winston doing?”

“He’s still having some issues with his calligraphy lessons, but his calculations are way ahead for his age! How is Lyra’s education going?”

“Well, I’m actually thinking of sending her too…” Delthea trailed off, and Lukas suddenly found his hand taken in a vice grip by Luthier’s sister. 

“Oh, Lukas! I wasn’t expecting you to be here! You and Lu didn’t come in for the funeral, but for a ball? Age is playing all sorts of tricks on me.” 

Lukas felt rather than saw Mathilda, Clair and Gray all move their eyes away when Delthea said that. He should have known better that the lot of them would gossip.

“Actually, Luthier is still at school. He’s taking over headmaster duties for the time being. I came here a few weeks ago to begin book research, and the king has kindly allowed me to use the library.” Lukas replied in a variation of the response he had prepared while traveling to the capital. “I apologize for not contacting you sooner, but I did tell Luthier to let you know in his last letter.”

Delthea rolled her eyes. “That old man must have forgotten.” She pat her ringed fingers on against his shoulder after releasing her grip on his hand in comfort. “No trouble, no trouble. I’ll have to wait until our visit up north in the spring, then.” 

“If it’s an item, I can send it for you.” Lukas offered. Luthier’s response to his previous assortment of care packages would probably come in the next few weeks, if the courier was not stranded. 

“Oh, no. It’s, well, this was just what I was about to tell Clair- Lyra’s been showing some manifestation of magic. I’ve decided to send her to Luthier for training.” Delthea replied with a brittle about it. It was rather ironic, to say the least. Delthea had sealed her magic some years before, and now her youngest child inherited her abilities. 

“Are you sure? Lyra’s only seven, is she not?” Lukas replied, remembering Luthier mentioning something about sending her a toy for her birthday some months ago. “And I’m sure there are many magic tutors in the capital.” 

“Luthier still has vast knowledge about magical arts from our home village.” Delthea answered. “Since he never plucked up the courage to marry, I promised that if one of my children showed some magic potential, he would teach them the old ways. Pass on the torch, you know. You have children her age at your school, do you not?” 

That was true, but those children either lived in the area, or had been orphaned with no other place to go. There were some children of noble families that boarded at the estate, yes, but they were all older. 

“...I will let him know in my next letter.” Lukas replied. It was not his place to get into family rituals or child rearing. He was merely a teacher, and sometimes a guardian. None of the children he trained or taught were his own. 

“Marjorie and Lucille grew up into fine women under Clair’s care.” Mathilda assured Delthea, resting her hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulders. “I’m sure Lyra will be fine in Luthier’s.” 

Lukas glanced at Mathilda’s face as she spoke, but the woman did not bat an eye. 

“Oh, that’s right! I received word from Lucille that she will be returning from her knight exchange soon. It will be lovely for you two to live in the same city again.” Clair smiled, and some of the awkwardness lifted. 

They continued to exchange small talk. Clair and Delthea talked about their families and hobbies. Gray talked about his prospects in the coming year and letters from Tobin and Kliff on their respective travels. Mathilda chatted about the goings on in the castle. Lukas shared the more family friendly facts he had found in his search of the histories. He had gone back six generations from King Lima now, and what he found was not pleasant in the least. He decided to keep the tale of King Bacchus sucking ichor from Mila’s teats until his late teens, but did tell the story of Prince Tantalus’s love for apples. However, it was much more clear to him in these exchanges why Mathilda felt she had to get him. None of them talked about Celica, or asked about Alm’s condition.  
“Have you had time to speak with Alm since the funeral, Gray?” Lukas decided to break the ice with the one who had known him the longest. 

Gray looked visibly startled, before grasping the side of his neck. “Well, not face to face. He sent a return letter as thanks for the condolences. I figured he, you know, wanted to keep to himself for a bit.” 

“... I see.” 

Gray scowled. “People deal with grief in different ways. I didn’t want to crowd him. He’s loved Celica since we were kids, and that kind of emotional blow’ll do a number on you. Nobody knows how to deal with it but him.” 

“Some more letters would have been nice,” Mathilda countered. “Not the formal kind. Real letters, that asked how he was feeling.” 

Gray’s cheeks darkened. “Then you could have sent for us.” 

“I did!” Mathilda’s voice rose, causing a few people’s heads to turn. Her tone lowered. “I did what I could, and when I asked for help, you gave me excuses. Do not lay your faults down on my head.” 

“Like I could reach that high.” Gray, Lukas thought at first, had appeared to taken the idiom seriously, but then he leaned towards his sister-in-law, voice lowered. “Who was the one that taught your daughter how to use a sword? Made them both eat their greens?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” Mathilda hissed. 

“Are you sure about that?”

“Enough of this, both of you.” Clair intercedes before the argument could go much further. “We can save family discourse at another date.”

“Let’s… let’s get some food, yes?” Delthea added.

“I agree. Some good food would do me well right now.” Lukas added calmly. The food table would have less dangerous conversation than this. 

(~)

Lukas had left Delthea to mingle with some of her friends, moving back to the corner with his small plate of sweets when the noise of the crowd silenced as Alm was escorted in. He was dressed in all his heavy finery instead of his mourning costume, wearing the ceremonial crown that had once been Rudolf’s. It no longer looked as heavy across his brow. In time, he had grown into it to suit him. He was too far away away to have a clear look at his face, and he could not be sure if it was a put together as his ensemble. People bowed at the image of their king, showing proper deference, but Lukas heard a few gasps closer to him, and murmurings that spoke of his appearance. 

Alm marched to the end of the ballroom, where two thrones sat slightly elevated. He stood beside the one on the left, and began a speech that from the first word Lukas knew was not a speech Alm made himself. It was serviceable, but had none of his spark, none of the pull that had drawn armies to the man. Perhaps that was not what people wanted, but it did not sit right with Lukas at all. A speech filled with mild praises to all, well wishes in the year to come, reminders to enjoy the feast, and then, even from a farther distance, Lukas saw Alm pause, to turn his head back at the empty thrones behind him. 

“...May… may Queen Anthiese, my beloved, find peace in the realm that awaits us all, and continue to watch over us,” Alm paused again, before raising his voice to bring the speech to a finish. “Please eat, drink, and be merry with the fruits of our labor. Long live Valentia.”

The whole crowd echoed back with cheer. “Long live Valentia!” 

Alm turned away, and sat on his throne, arm outstretched towards the other, waiting to grasp a hand that was not there. 

Lukas looked down at the remaining dainties on his plate, and for some odd reason, no longer felt like eating them. He set the plate aside on an empty spot, and found himself embroiled with small talk once more. With faces he could recognize with names he could not recall, exchanging pleasantries. He joined a few dances, mostly already married ladies that when they attempted to make a meaningful glance or say something about a daughter he switched to a new partner. He wished Forsyth was there. He wished Python was there, too, even if he had never gone to these events, save for the very first one, when their army had returned to what was once Zofia castle but then had to be given a new name. 

Was this a thing that one did when you got older? To wish to go back? He did not remember ever wishing for that before. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw goblets delivered to Alm at a rate most people would find alarming. That was also something he did not remember happening before. 

“He’s not stopping, Mathilda.” Lukas murmured as he lead, or more accurately was lead by the taller woman in a dance. 

“And what am I supposed to do about it?” Mathilda replied. She had been in a bad mood since the spat with Gray. “That’s not my job, it’s yours.” 

Right. The reason he was even at this ball in the first place. “Can you just get him to walk around and away from wine while I go get him some food?” Lukas pressed. He was losing his own patience, and a fresh goblet had gone up to Alm during their dance. “That’s all I ask.”

“Fine. We’ll rendezvous at east end of the hall.”

Lukas smiled, and they exchanged the proper bows once the dance was done and walked off the main dance floor to their respective tasks. Lukas now went to the food table for savory goods, grabbing some fresh bread and cheeses spread out. He turned back to see that Alm was no longer sitting, though he could not pinpoint his location either. Too many bodies pressed along the sides of dancefloor to keep out of the way of dancers. As he tried to side-step through, his elbow caught against someone’s side, nearly jerking the plate from his hands.

“My apologies…” Lukas said, and looked up to find Chancellor Conrad, dressed in smart robes dark enough that he could barely make out the black armband. 

“No apologies necessary, Sir Lukas. It is rather crowded in here.” Conrad replied, a good-natured smile on his face.

Lukas slowed his pace. He could not see Alm or Mathilda, so decided it was safe to rest for a moment before continuing through the throng once more. “Was that speech penned by you, Chancellor?”

“Oh, well, yes. How could you tell?” 

Lukas did his best half smile. The speech did not have Alm call the Queen "Celica." “Intuition, perhaps.”

“Well, the king has been a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I decided to lend a hand.” 

“That’s very kind of you.” Lukas then recalled the glass houses the Queen had designed, a flash of memory that made him go beyond the usual small talk. “Actually, Chancellor… may I come to your offices at a later date?”

“I don’t believe I’ll have any histories that would help with your research, Sir Lukas.” Conrad smiled. 

Lukas shook his head. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about more of Queen Anthiese’s projects. Alm told me about the glass houses, and I wanted to look into more of her ideas. I assumed you have the notes archived?” 

Conrad’s brow wrinkled at the question. “Why would you be interested in them?”

“I’m having one of them built at my school. It’s a remarkable invention. I’m sure she had more.” Lukas answered. “It would be a crime not to share these inventions with our countrymen.”

But Conrad shook his head. “Look, Sir Lukas. I know you mean well, but I think it would be best to save those ideas for another time. I would be happy to have you look through them, but… well, most I do not think can be acted on for years to come.” 

Lukas paused. “What do you mean by that?”

“Perhaps it’s hard for you to understand. You were a man of action for many years…”

“As were you, Chancellor.” Lukas said, more abrupt than he was used to being, but he knew this conversation would get him nowhere. “I can still remember that peculiar mask you used to wear. Excuse me.”

The crowd of senseless gestures and phrases was better than being insulted, and Lukas still had his task to complete. When he reached the east end, Mathilda had hid Alm behind a jutting alcove. The king was slumped against the wall, his face ruddy with the alcohol he had consumed. Lukas quickly ducked behind Mathilda to join him as the former stood guard.  
“How many drinks did you have?” Lukas pressed, moving the plate in front of Alm as a gesture to eat, but he moved his head to the side in refusal. 

“He doesn’t remember.” Mathilda answered bluntly. 

“It was too loud.” Alm slurred, ironically loud enough to draw a few head turns their way. Mathilda kept the nobles that walked their way distracted as Lukas tried to shove a piece of cheese through Alm’s mouth. Alm grabbed his wrist, eyes too bright. “I’m not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one.” Lukas replied lowly. “Eat.”

“I can’t.” Alm’s head jerked, letting go of Lukas’s wrist to cover his mouth. His shoulders slumped forward, as if he was about to vomit. He really had drank too much. 

Mathilda turned her head back to them when she had waved the potential prying eyes away. “Get him out of here. I’ll notify the guards, just don’t let anyone see him like this.” 

“Right.” Lukas handed the plate to her, knowing he would need both of his hands to do this task. He stood at Alm’s left side, taking Alm’s elbow in hand to guide him away from the wall. Alm raised his other arm, as if to strike at him, but then the brightness in his eyes faded, and he followed when ushered. They exited out of the ballroom through a smaller guard exit, and began to make the long, long journey back to the royal quarters.

(~)

Unlike the ballroom, the castle halls are dark and quiet at this hour of night. Alm’s breath reeked of wine as he head rested against Lukas’s shoulders, but Lukas does not find the will in himself to be truly irritated by it. He is grateful that no patrols are around to see them like this.

Alm muttered nonsense words as they made it into the living wing of the castle, most of them slightly disjointed apologies or names. Lukas wonders if the alcohol is making Alm see ghosts. Fortunately, Lukas needed him to return to the land of the living and regain some consciousness. 

“Alm, where are your sleeping quarters?”

“Sleep?” He mumbled, lifting his head up. 

“Yes. Where do you sleep?” 

He pointed a gloved hand in the proper direction, before his head and full body weight slump back against Lukas, nearly making him lose his footing. “Alm-!” 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it.” Alm continued, his arms wrapping around Lukas’s waist to keep them standing. “Being around everyone acting so happy, so full of life… I just wanted to drown it out.”

Lukas did not know how to respond, so the two of them remained silent after that confession. Eventually, they made it to the proper door, that was thankfully unlocked. They went inside, lit up only from the half-waxed winter moon outside the window, enough for Lukas to make out the bed at the back wall. He tried to make Alm sit so he could remove the cape, but the man’s grip around his waist held fast. 

“Alm, you need to let go.” Lukas sighed. 

“But then I’ll fall.” 

“You won’t. You aren’t standing anymore.” 

“...” Slowly, the arms retracted. Alm, thankfully, did not put up a fuss when his heavier clothing is removed, and he even took off his shoes on his own. Lukas guides Alm to lie on his side, and finds a clean chamber pot to put beside the bed if necessary. 

“Sleep. You’ll feel better if you do.” 

“I… I can spar.” Alm croaked. Lukas could not help but laugh.

“Maybe tomorrow. Right now, rest.”

“Lukas, I can’t.” Alm’s voice had gone soft. “Not… alone. It hurts too much.” 

Lukas knew that under more sober circumstances, Alm would never say something like this, but right now, inebriated and lonely, his tongue had been loosened. Maybe, besides the nightmares, the reason Alm trained so much at night was to escape the big, lonely room that waited for him. Lukas had never done that before, but some nights, he felt like he wanted to. 

He walked down and sat at the foot of the bed. Alm’s calves slightly brushed against his back as he did, so he knew Lukas was there. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep. Will that be fine?”

“...Yeah.”

“Good. Now, try to sleep.” 

“...Okay.” 

There were a few sounds of sheets and blankets shifting as Alm closed his eyes. Later, when Lukas knew Alm was truly asleep, he turned his head to look at the king, drunk and dressed in wrinkled party clothes. This was the lowest he could remember having ever seen Alm. Not since Duma Tower, at least, and this felt like another impossible situation. Only this time, there were no gods to vanquish to make it end. 

Though he said he would leave, Lukas spent some more time just sitting there, and looked out at the cold night behind the window glass while he listened to Alm’s breathing. Lukas would have to be more careful now, now that he knew…

Now that he knew Alm was just as lonely as Lukas had been. How he still was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait for this! Starting classes again and trying to find part-time work. Hope you enjoyed the emotional downward spiral as much as I enjoyed writing it (well, maybe understand it is the better word).


	6. What the Morning Brings

 

Lukas awoke the next morning to light hitting his eyes, a sore neck, aching legs, and the realization that he was not lying in his own bed. That he was not lying down at all.

He attempted to stand, but his legs cracked at that option, and he slumped back onto the bed with a quick curse.

Someone groaned, and Lukas’s eyes shifted down to find Alm with his head half-buried into a pillow. There were contents in the chamber pot he placed beside the bed that had not been there before.  

Well, they must certainly both be a sight right now.

Lukas reached for Alm’s knee and gave it a quick shake. Alm groaned again.

“Alm, you need to get up.”

“My head…” Alm replied, and Lukas could barely see side of his face, one one eye blurry from sleep. Lukas bit back the retort he wanted to say about it being Alm’s own fault, instead making a second and successful attempt in getting up.

“Some water and a change of clothes will do you more good than lying there all day.” Lukas replied, patting the other man’s shoulder. Slowly, Alm turned away from the pillow, recognizing who Lukas was.

“You stayed?”

Lukas blinked back his surprise. So Alm did remember his request last night. Lukas wondered if that was a good or a bad thing, but both of them were too bedraggled to talk more about that. That was for another time. “Yes. Though, I had not planned on falling asleep.”

“...Mm.” Alm mumbled, looking like he wanted to say more, before clutching his head. “...Sorry, but… a little help here?”

After a few minutes of both attempting to get out of bed without falling over, or Alm having to put his head between his knees or Lukas hearing another crack from his own knees, they had gotten out of the bed and made their way to the pitcher of water standing beside a basin and a towel outside the bedroom. Alm poured half of it into the empty basin, before he settled his face into it with a sigh. Lukas meanwhile searched for cups. Soon, they were found and Lukas poured the remaining water while Alm dried his face. Lukas would wash up later in his own room.

Alm took the cup, and began to sip. There were still droplets of water in his beard, though he looked much more present than before, and could stand on his own.

“Finish your water, then dress in your bedclothes and go back to sleep if you still feel ill.” Lukas instructed as he drank some water and rinsed away the dryness that coated his throat. When he was done, he set the cup aside, and tried his best to stretch in his now wrinkled ball attire. He would need to change as well, before he did anything else. “I’ll ask for someone to come and check on you.”

“Thank you.” Alm replied, before frowning down at his hands. He had forgotten to remove his gloves the night before, and they were now also covered in water. Neither of them realized. Alm attempted to remove them, but his coordination had not fully returned. Despite the circumstances, it was almost comical.

Lukas decided it was best to intercede. “Allow me.”

He tugged against the end of each finger of the glove before sliding them off. Then, he reached out and did the same for the other. The removal revealed the Brand on the back of his palm. Up close, it did not look especially noteworthy- a discoloration of skin on his left hand, but it was a sign of Alm’s destiny that was with him since birth. It was the mark which lead him to the path of a hero of prophecy. It set him above, but also apart from others.

“Celica had a Brand on her other hand.” Alm interrupted Lukas’s thoughts, maybe mistaking Lukas’s look as a desire to ask questions, or maybe just because Alm wanted to say something. “When we were kids, we thought that meant we would always be together. Now I wonder if I’ll wake up one day and find it gone.”

Lukas frowned, and set the gloves to the side. He did not know how to help someone through their grief, but he knew enough that it would not solve anything to call Alm’s worry foolish.

“...Weren’t you both separated then as well?” Lukas’s palm hovered underneath Alm’s, brushing against the skin. “It didn’t disappear then, did it?”

Alm jaw clenched. “That was different.”

“Perhaps it was, perhaps not.” Lukas replied. “It is still a separation, but the Brand remained, same as it does now. Your lives are still intertwined then, which means she is still with you now.”

Lukas expected Alm to snatch his hand away, or show a sign of anger, and tell him how wrong he was. Instead, His hand rested now in Lukas’s. Lukas could not read the expression on Alm’s face.

“Why are you so kind to me?” Alm replied. “I acted awful last night. It’s… it’s not your job to do this.”

“I’m doing this because I want to.” Lukas replied, and he spoke the truth when he said this. Mathilda may have had to come to bring him here, but he did want to do this. Alm needed help, and Lukas wanted to help him get through it without falling into the grave after Celica. “Because you’re my friend, Alm, and that won’t change.”

Lukas gave the hand a small squeeze, then released it, and walked the main living quarters before Alm could respond. As he was about to leave, he found Percy curled into a ball, resting on a large pillow a little ways away from the door. He was glad last night they had not left it open and allowed Percy to escape again.

“Alm?” Lukas turned back and found that Alm had been staring at him.

“Yes, Lukas?”

He pointed down. “...Perhaps it would be best to not keep Percy so close to the door,” Lukas smiled. “He may get lost again.”

“Oh,” Alm zeroed in on the sleeping cat, and smiled himself. “Heh, I get your point.”

Guards he passed gave him inquiring looks at the look of his clothes, but Lukas simply smiled and waved them off. The gossip would be just two old war buddies sharing stories and drink in the king’s quarters, that was all.

Part of him wondered if the exchange had been too intimate. Then again, Alm had not shied away from the touch. Alm seemed a tactile person by nature, and his body might have craved physical contact. Lukas remembered a time when he had felt the same, once. Lukas would try to give Alm what support he needed in that.

(~)

 

_Dear Luthier,_

_I apologize for sending this without having received your response to my other letter. I already asked after you and the students in my previous correspondence, so I will be frank. I talked with Delthea last night, and your niece has begun to show signs of further magical talent. Delthea wants to send her to the school. I know that it is not my place to get into family affairs, but you should know such a change so young could be drastic for a child. If I was still there, perhaps I would suggest you go see Delthea yourself, but alas. I’ll try to convince her on my end, but you should do the same._

_The King is still in poor spirits since the Queen’s death, but that is to be expected, I suppose. The love he has for her is so strong, it astounds me, but I suppose I should expect that of Alm. He always seemed to feel so much. Maybe my own lack then is what makes it such a surprise._

_Either way, I am moving off-subject. Hope this letter finds you in good health._

_Your friend,_

_Lukas_

 

(~)

 

“Good afternoon, General.” Lukas said after the door to Mathilda’s office opened. “I’m glad to find you in your office.”

The smile Mathilda gave him was polite and without warmth.

“Clair and Gray left early this morning, so there’s nothing holding me back from trying to catch up on work.” Mathilda replied, before opening the door and allowing him in. Compared to Alm’s office, it was more minimal in design: the only decor Lukas saw were some small portraits framed on the desk. They were faced away from him, but Lukas had an educated guess on what they had painted on.

“You’ve grown into quite the workaholic.”

“I just happen to take my job seriously.” Mathilda replied, sitting back down in her chair, the padded back the only aspect of comfort Lukas could find in the room. “I didn’t see you come back to the festivities last night. Did something happen? The King, well… I’ve never seen him so inebriated.”

“It was only two old friends enjoying too much to drink and conversation.” Lukas replied wanly, which told Mathilda the problem was about what she had expected. No need to tell her about his own issues. “Actually, that’s the reason that I came here today. I need you to work out some way I can work with Alm. Assist him, book-keep, something like that.”

Mathilda raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to blow your cover.”

“I don’t. But after last night, I think it might be better if I’m closer by. Unless we’re forced into company, I’m afraid he’ll simply slip back into isolation.” Lukas answered. He had come up with the idea rather on the fly, but it could still work.

Mathilda, however, thought otherwise. “No.”

“...No?”

“No, I don’t have the authority to do that.” Mathilda replied. “I’m a General, that’s not in my job description, and I don’t have any pull in whom and who doesn’t get secretary work. That falls more in line with Chancellor Conrad’s work.”

Lukas frowned. “That might be a problem.”

Mathilda’s eyes widened. “...I thought I told you specifically you didn’t want him as an enemy. What happened in the weeks since you got here to make your forget?”

“I would not call it enmity, simply a disagreement in capabilities.”

“But that cuts off that possibility.” Mathilda sighed and tented her fingers. “So, that leaves you with two choices: ask Alm directly for a position-”

“-which will come off as suspicious to everyone.” Lukas interrupted.

“Or,” Mathilda stared pointedly. “Actually make an effort to see him every day.”

“Excuse me?”

“Trial period is over. You two have rekindled your friendship, or at least I would hope so, at this rate, now make sure something like last night does not happen again.” Mathilda replied. “Clair and Gray would not be of help to us at the moment, and Tobin is overseas in the Princess’s delegation. Like I told you before, he needs support, and you are the only one who can give him that right now.”

Lukas took a moment to think. Though Alm was his friend, besides sparring and discussing tactics, they had never necessarily shared pleasure activities together. Now that Lukas thought about it, he had never even asked Alm his hobbies even _were_.

It made his little speech earlier seem rather hollow.

“Anything else you want to ask?” Mathilda replied, her tone not leaving room for much actual questions. It made Lukas want her to squirm a little.

“You seemed at a loss at how to respond to the news of your children last night, specifically of your daughter’s pending return.” Lukas replied.

Mathilda’s scowl deepened. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“I’ve heard she’s wanted to follow in your footsteps: A Paladin and assured member of the Brotherhood while still in her early twenties is no small feat, even for one of noble blood.” Lukas replied.

“Any virtue they have is either in their own willpower or to Clair and Gray’s influence.” Mathilda replied. She sounded tired instead of annoyed when she said this. Lukas felt a twinge of regret. “Lucille became a fine woman without my help.”

Lukas, once more, did not know how to respond to this honesty. The best decision would be retreat. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

“Please.”

Lukas left Mathilda holding one of the frames on her desk with a wistful eye.

 

(~)

After taking a much needed nap before dinner, Lukas was ready to face his next task head on. He wanted to make his words earlier that morning mean something.

Despite last night’s activities and hangover, Alm was doing warm ups at the training ground. He paused when he saw Lukas.

“I didn’t expect you to come.” Alm replied, rather bluntly, if Lukas was honest.

“I keep my promises, don’t I?” Lukas responded nonchalantly, walking past Alm to grab a training lance. The night was cool, but not enough that they still could not practice in the courtyard. It may be a mild cold season yet.

Alm had lowered his own practice sword. “Yes, but…”

“I want to spend time with you.” Lukas replied firmly. “You are not a burden to be with.”

Alm went quiet after that, and Lukas found his weapon and began to do his own warm ups. When he was done, Lukas turned to the king. Though he was still a powerful, imposing looking man, the moonlight softened his facial features. Maybe it was only after the knowledge of last night, but the openness of Alm’s face stood out to Lukas. It was hard for him to explain, but, strangely, it was something Lukas felt.

They began their spar, and maintained the silence, only stopping when their breath was heavy and overheated enough to be seen in the chilled air. Lukas walked over to the bleachers and sat down with a groan. The workout had helped loosen his muscles, but his body still protested to how he had slept last night. He hadn’t slept sitting up since the war.

Alm soon joined him, and with him, a leather pouch filled with water. He offered it to Lukas, which he graciously accepted. He took small gulps, before handing it back to Alm.

“So, anytime in your schedule for us to share each other’s company besides handling your insomnia?” Lukas asked.

“I thought you said you _wanted_ to be here.” Alm’s tone was teasing. A good sign.

Lukas rolled his eyes. “Answer the question, your Majesty.”

“I should have some free time for tea tomorrow.” Alm replied. “Would that work for you?”

“Yes. It works out nicely.” Lukas replied. “... If you don’t mind, may I bring some of my research notes for you to see?”

Alm’s eyes brightened. “Sure, I’d like that.”

With that settled, the two sat once more in the moonlight. Sharing in the silence but also in renewed hopes to what the day would bring them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big big thank you to everyone for helping The Lion in Winter reach over 100 kudos! I'm so happy that people have enjoyed this fic and are sticking around to see where the story goes. 
> 
> As thanks for reaching this milestone, I wanted to do a vote of sorts: I have a couple of ideas for a oneshot/sidestory chapters, and I wanted to open it up to vote on what people would most like to see. 
> 
> Here are the options:
> 
> 1\. Alm and Lukas Platonic C-A Support set during the Echoes timeline. 
> 
> 2\. A Duma Faithful AU oneshot.
> 
> 3\. Side chapter focused on Leon
> 
> 4\. Side chapter focused on Alm and Celica during their reign
> 
> Please either put your vote in the comments or send it in an ask on my tumblr account, which has the same name as my Ao3. I will have this vote open until April 9th, 2018- a month from now. I will tally it up and the one with the most votes will be the winner!


	7. Cultivating

Lukas took a sip of his tea. Today's offering was an herbal blend that warmed his bones after working outside with the recruits. Alm was currently looking over Lukas's book notes and observations that he had compiled thus far. In a fine black waistcoat with embroidery finely detailed with gold thread in the shape of leaves, Alm was dressed for meetings with important officials. Lukas felt slightly underdressed in a thick knit sweater and scuffed up trousers. He had forsaken a proper shirt and vest in his rush to pick up his notes and get to their meeting on time.

Percy seemed to prefer the material and was resting in Lukas's lap, his headbutting against Lukas's free hand. Lukas smiled, scratching the underside of the cat's chin as he did a once over around the atrium. The pots were still there, but their contents looked even more pitiful than last time. Most were brown and withered down too much to guess what had previously blossomed there, the only indicator being a few stray leaves that remained precariously attached to their stems. 

Lukas's gaze then shifted back to Alm, watching him read. Partially because he was curious to see how he would react. Much of the history of old Zofia that he had found did not have honorable ends or beginnings. Everything had paled in comparison to the golden age of the past few decades. Then again, if this was a golden age, shouldn't they all have been happier? 

Save for some pauses to turn a loose page, nothing in Alm's body position nor expression changed to indicate an emotional response. The look in his eyes seemed like he was planning out a strategy for an upcoming battle. Lukas was beginning to second guess his reasoning for bringing his research notes in any way? Perhaps his friendship with Luthier could work with exchanging written words and debate over tea, but could the same be said for a friendship with Alm?

A few minutes more passed with Lukas trying his best to enjoy the silence before the potential onslaught of writing criticism, until Alm set the collection of notes aside, and giving Lukas a smile worthy of the worst politician ever. "That was very... informative."

Lukas took another sip of his tea to hide a smile. "It was that bad?"

"It's not that it's bad!" Alm exclaimed, his hands rose as if to placate Lukas's disappointment, a complete contrast to the cool and collected position he had while reading. "I just expected to read more of you in it." 

Lukas was puzzled at the king's phrasing. "What do you mean? I'm not exactly a historical figure." 

"No, not like that," Alm's hands lowered and his finger ghosted around the rim of his teacup as he gathered his thoughts. "How can I say this, I mean that when I read historical texts, you can pick up how the author feels about the people they are writing about or their own perspective on history. I think that's part of the reason why people read them."

Lukas took a moment to think about the feedback. "...Hm, I see what you mean. Histories are partially so interesting because the writer is subjective. Am I following you thus far?"

"Yeah. I mean I'm not an expert or anything, and if you're trying to inform people about the past then I think what you have so far is great," Alm answered. "I just feel it doesn't have your essence in it yet." 

Lukas never remembered Alm using the word "essence," before. Then again, many people had commented on his lack of emotion before. Maybe that also transferred to his writing. Even though such accusations came from long ago, the thought brought a dull ache to his side. "...If I may then, how do you suggest I better convey my perspective?"

Alm sorted the notes back into the portfolio and handed it back over to Lukas. "Maybe try to describe the Zofian rulers you've researched so far to me but without reading from your notes, like in a usual class you would hold."

A strange request, but Lukas collected his thoughts and then began. It was difficult to describe things without a lesson plan in front of him, but he tried to give a small lecture. Surprisingly, he found it much easier to convey his thoughts in this way. 

Alm listened intently, nodding along, laughing or shaking his head in disgust at the times Lukas had planned that he would. Lukas didn't think his delivery was particularly emotive, but maybe he was simply expressing his thoughts more effectively. 

When he was finished, Lukas asked his class of one if he had any questions. 

Alm gave nodded and smiled. "Now that you've told it to me, how would you describe your own thoughts on the kings so far?" 

"I thought you were going to answer how you felt about it," Lukas replied.

"Then you would just agree with me, wouldn't you?" 

Lukas's eyes narrowed. Alm was better at debate then he had given him credit for. "Very well. I suppose I would say that a lot of previous kings' actions reflect how much the Zofian royal family relied on Mila's care. She gave them her divine protection and blessing to do what they wished. I feel… with her around, they were unable to reach their full potential, and then their actions and personalities suffered, and it makes me wonder how much the people suffered from this."

"Try to write with the idea in your head," Alm said. "It's a unique one, and if you have that idea guide you, I think your voice will come through."

Lukas nodded. "...Thank you, Alm. That suggestion was helpful." Then, he made the choice that he usually tried to steer clear of in regular conversation. He attempted to continue it. "Do you read many histories in your free time?" 

"Not as much as I used to," Alm said with a frown. "Most days my eyes get pretty tired after staring at paperwork, so it's hard to focus on the words. But please keep bringing me your book notes if I was helpful!"

"You were, but please, don't tax yourself on my behalf," Lukas replied. "If you it's too much, please let me know. I don't want you being my personal editor to be another job in your loaded schedule."

"If you say so," Alm replied, and then poured more tea into both of their cups. "I would enjoy another lecture on the subject, though. Seeing you in your element is nice." 

Lukas took a sip from his tea to mask his, well, how would he describe the feeling? Perhaps it was an embarrassment? However, this attempt would only scald his tongue in the process. Percy jumped out of his lap at the disruption as he coughed. 

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Lukas answered, his voice now croaked. "I should've waited longer for it to cool."

Alm smiled good-naturedly. "It happens to the best of us. In fact, there was this one time..."

Alm then went into a short but charming anecdote of when he forgot proper table etiquette and began to drink from the hand bowl early on in his reign. The good-natured ribbing of his younger self-added to its appeal.  
"Perhaps you should also take up a quill in your spare time," Lukas suggested at the end of the story. "Or maybe enlist the help of a bard, so the tales of King Alm I's faux-paus will allow those of us to be kinder to our own." 

"Oh no, that story is staying in this room," Alm asserted, but there was a playful gleam in his eye. He then leaned back in his chair with a sigh, reaching down to rub Percy's back after the cat had finished his patrol of the glass walls, and bringing Lukas's mind back to the pots. 

"Will the plants here return come spring?" Lukas asked. 

"Oh," Alm answered and looked around. His expression darkened when he focused on these dead and dying pieces of nature. "...Some will if they're cut back. Others will probably have to be used for fertilizer." 

"You seem to have knowledge of these things," Lukas said evenly.

"A bit. I learned a few things from Celica," Alm replied. "But… I don't know if I can take over her work. Perhaps it would be better to throw them all out." 

"Do you want to?" Lukas replied. 

"It's not a matter of wanting, it's ability." Alm's voice had grown tense at the response. 

That sounded incredibly defeatist. Not at all like Alm. "...I have had the same thought about gardening, but now I'm thinking I should change my mind."

Before Alm could find a response, there were two quick raps of a knock at the door. 

"Enter," Alm called out, his expression returning to a mask of decorum. Lukas turned to see, to his dismay, the Chancellor open the door. 

"Apologies your Majesty, but I have… some documents for you to look over," Conrad's voice lulled when he saw Lukas gathering his folder and papers. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Lukas replied before Alm could object as he got to his feet and turned back to the king and bowed."Thank you for your help, Alm."

"It's no trouble, but you don't have to leave so soon," Alm objected, before turning to Conrad. "I'm sure we can find another seat and we can all chat as I look at the-"

"-No, I wouldn't want to be in the way of your duties," Lukas then turned back to Conrad and gave a respectful nod of his head. "Good day, Chancellor."

"Good day, Sir Lukas," Conrad replied. His face was perfectly composed, save for a slight twitch in his jaw. He probably should do what Mathilda implied and make nice with him, but the way he had responded to him at the Solstice ball stuck in his memory like a raised scar. He had dealt with too many people undermining his opinion in his life and he would not take it sitting down ever again. It was a shame, but that was the way it went.

So he walked out of the room without a second glance and back to his quarters, penning a quick note to Leon asking if he would be free for him to visit in the coming days. 

(~)

Lukas traveled to market quarter in the early evening with some of his personal stock of tea blend and some dried fruit for gifts under his arm. It wasn't much, but he was also planning on making some purchases as well. Lukas went to the alleyway along the side of the storefront as Leon has instructed and knocked on the door. A man that appeared to be in his late fifties answered. He was tall and had broad shoulders, the blue hair he had tied into a loose ponytail streaked with gray. If he stepped through the doorway, Lukas thought he could very likely fill it with his size. His face wore a small and disinterested frown.

"Good afternoon," Lukas said. "Pardon me, but do I have the right-?"

"Is that apricot?" He pointed at the jar of dried fruit under his arm. 

"Yes?"

The man's face broke into a grin. "Apricot is my favorite. Welcome, Sir Lukas!" 

"Oh, thank you, Mr…?" 

"Oh, my apologies," The man took his free hand and gave a firm pump of his arm. "I'm Elias, we haven't been formally acquainted yet. Leon is putting the finishing touches on dinner right now." 

Elias, "Eli," Leon's partner. That made much more sense. When Elias made way for Lukas to enter, he had to wonder if Leon had some preference for rather large men. 

They passed a small hallway, where Elias took Lukas's cloak and hung it on the spare metal hook on the wall before they walked up a narrow stairway that went up to the second floor of the shop that was set up as a living room. Most of the space was made out of stone, but there were various rugs, pillows, and furniture made of light and fine wood that brought more color to the room. There was another set of stairs on the other side of the room that Lukas presumed to lead to their bedrooms Leon was stirring something that smelled warm and comforting that was being heated by brick oven. Lukas could see Anna's head popping out of a swaddle of blankets on a rocking chair in the corner, still sniffling. Elias walked across the room and rested a hand on the small of Leon's back to let him know he was back, and received a smile and kiss in return. It was a near perfect scene of domesticity. 

Leon turned his head to look at Lukas still standing by the stairway and gestured to the table in the center of the room with place settings for four. "Go and have a seat."

"Are you sure you don't need assistance?" Lukas asked. Meanwhile, Anna struggled out of her cocoon.

"I can help."

"You sit," Leon pointed the ladle towards his charge. "I don't want you hacking into the food. Same goes for you, Lukas. You're the guest."

Both Anna and Lukas did as they were told, the former with more muttering. Elias took Lukas's gifts, before pouring wine into three wine glasses and ushering Lukas to drink. Its flavor was good and paired well with the ragout that was served soon after. Most of the dinner was filled with small talk and getting to know about Elias, who still regularly traveled and made sure that his and Leon's storefronts were well-supplied and their suppliers were content. Lukas did a regular introductory spiel before Leon pressed him on the goings on at the Solstice ball. Anna tried her best to put her best face forward, but in the middle of dinner and too many points to blow her nose, Elias helped her up to the third level to her bed. 

"I told her she didn't have to get out of bed, but she was going stir crazy in her room," Leon explained. "Been in my hair all day, I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up tomorrow with it streaked in gray." 

"I will hope for a speedy recovery then." Lukas smiled. 

"Mh-hm. So, what brings you around besides the stellar company? If I remember correctly the castle food was decent enough." 

"I wanted to stop by and ask for some gardening advice," Lukas said. "As an apothecary, I'm sure you keep some or have knowledge of where to get them wholesale?" 

Leon leaned his chin into his hands. "Hmm… yeah, that's true. Not the best season for starting a garden though. We don't have to worry about much frost this far South. Looking for a new hobby?" 

"I am interested in giving it a shot," Lukas replied. "I miss the nature around the school. It would be small, maybe for a few pots?" 

Leon's eyes focused on Lukas with a frown. He wondered if the merchant knew him well enough to tell when he lied, but then he shrugged. "If the pay is good I'm sure you can go with Eli to one of our suppliers outside the city in the next fortnight or so. Most of the stuff in the shop is already prepped for purchase or mixing, so afraid I can't sell any to you here."

"Thank you." Lukas smiled, before taking a look around the room. "You two keep a lovely home."

Leon preened at the praise. "It took some work, but it was worth it."

"How long have you been together?"

"Five years come next harvest," Leon replied. "It took me awhile to accept I had feelings for him. I was still grieving over Valbar." 

Lukas frowned. "I'm sorry. I had heard about his passing from Forsyth." An old injury had made the man make a fatal miscalculation during a bandit attack. He still remembered the jaggedness in Forsyth's usually neat penmanship when he wrote of the news. He wished he could feel more sadness about that, but he considered Valbar lucky. Unlike Forsyth, they had been able to bring back his body. "So you two…?"

"Oh no," Leon replied with a sad smile. "Valbar loved his family too much, even after they were gone. He was devoted to their memory, and I would never press him about it. Afterall, it was that devotion that made me fall for him in the first place." 

Lukas took another sip of his wine. The ways of love were always a curious thing to see, especially after a loved one was gone. Some never loved again and devoted themselves to duty, others found ways to move forward and open their hearts again, while some found the fastest way to join their loved one wherever they had ended up. 

"I'm sure he would be happy for you." 

Leon's smile turned less sad at the prospect. "Think so?" 

Elias returned soon after that, and their dinner discussion returned to lighter topics. Three hours later, Lukas settled into bed with a sigh. He was glad that he had made it back without getting lost. Two glasses of wine were apparently too much for his constitution. 

He slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, messing up a few times. Now he knew how Alm must have felt the night of the ball with head hazy and movements sluggish. After doing pulling his boots off he struggled to back to his feet to grab his nightshirt from the wardrobe. As he searched, a small humming noise entered through his ears, loud and persistent enough that Lukas knew it wasn't coming from his own head. 

Turning his head, he looked back over at the lance. It was a cloudy night, one that threatened to bring cold rain, but the jewel set in place still gleamed and was the source of the noise. 

"..." Lukas finished getting changed for bed, before grabbing the weapon and placing it inside and closing the door. The humming came to a halt. 

That night he had nightmares that he was slashed in two, that he was engulfed by a horde of undead, and that his body was engulfed with magic so strong no shield could stop it. 

However, when Lukas awoke in a cold sweat clutching at his side, he knew that these were only nightmares. None of them were real. At least, that is what he always told himself. 

He had forgotten about the humming and was confused when he found the lance in his wardrobe when he eventually began to start the day. 

 

(~)

"What are you doing?"

Those are the first words out of Alm's mouth when Lukas had come to their regular afternoon tea with two small potted plants. One held rosemary and the other was a type of lettuce that he was told would turn purple when it matured. 

"I wanted to ask if I could have some assistance planting these," Lukas replied. "And if I could keep them in the atrium. My quarters while spacious, don't get as much light as this room." 

He knew what he had done would seem rash, but maybe it was the push that Alm needed to move forward. At least, Lukas hoped it would be.

Alm continued to stare at him, face like stone. Lukas waited. He was a patient man. 

After a minute of deliberation, Alm stepped forward and took the rosemary from his left arm. His outfit was still black, but the gloves he wore today were a soft gray. "...We'll have to go ask for new soil to plant these in. They won't last long without replanting. And you'll have to help me take out the ones in the atrium already that can't be saved." 

Lukas felt a large smile spread along his lips. "I'm ready to get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to turkeymagic for their help in trying to piece what plants would work out in the current season in fic, even if I might have still messed up a bit. For better gardening and horticulture, please check out their echoes fics!
> 
> Also, I'm happy to announce the winning fic for last chapter's vote, which was an Alm and Lukas support chain! It has been posted and is available to read on Ao3 through my fic list. Please look for "Paths Taken and Shared." I apologize that is was posted before the deadline, but since there was a lull in votes and it was winning by a good margin I took the initiative. The other options are still fics I might do someday though! 
> 
> Finally, @vwyn19 on both tumblr and twitter has made lovely fanart of older Lukas! Link here: https://twitter.com/vwyn19/status/981375922988236800%20 Please like it if you're able and check out more of their wonderful art! If you began to read the fic because of this art I'm happy that you were able to find it and hope you enjoy it so far.
> 
> NEW EDIT: viilocitee has also provided a fantastic title page fanart for this fic! Link here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kkCpDoE6kXeypzVIIiqAQBldKoKhlFGj/view 
> 
> It really fits the tone I have wanted to convey so far!


	8. Frayed Ties

“We welcome our soldiers back with open arms and hearts, and hope that their personal journeys have made them all the more ready to become devoted members of the Brotherhood.”

Lukas clapped at the end of Mathilda’s speech as the returning soldiers saluted towards Alm, then her, before turning to bow at the small crowd of military personnel and nobility that had come to the welcome event. There was a dozen in the group, and most Lukas didn’t recognize. In his later years, he mostly trained and taught recruits of more common birth, while those that had received the basics of combat training in their childhood were almost always squired early by a member of the Brotherhood. That was the most expedited and assured way to becoming a knight. They usually had connections or agreements with other noble families, though there was always a handful each year that made it to knighthood without going this route.

Lukas’s eyes rested on a head that held a familiar shade of yellow hair, tied in braided bun amongst the soldiers. He made a swift rub at this eyes to try and focus, but he was too far away to get a closer look at her features. He assumed that that was Lucille, yet Mathilda did not look especially proud or say her name with triumph. And the young paladin’s head remained facing forward towards the audience, which soon dispersed into small groups for conversation and welcoming the return of friends, family or comrades that had spent the last year away from home. Lukas made his way over to Alm. The king was dressed in ceremonial attire as well as his crown, but he was allowed for this event to keep to a majority of black in the outfit’s color scheme. Perhaps the military could appreciate mourning in a way the general nobility could not.

“Well done.”

Alm cracked a wry smile. “Thankfully Mathilda did more of the talking than I did.” That was true. All the king truly did was shake hands and welcome each of the soldiers back, with one or two receiving medals based on their support of keeping the Mercenary Kingdom well-protected during their exchange. “It’s good to see they’re all doing well. Tierney and Lucille were great friends while growing up, so I feel a little proud seeing how far she’s come.”

“Is that so?” Lukas replied. It did make sense, for their respective families to be close, and he faintly remembered hearing from Forsyth that both Lucille and Tierney had decided to go through basic training with other recruits in their early teens. The difference between their upbringings and a significant amount of the recruits must have made them grow closer as friends. “Hmm, it's not good to play favorites though.”

“Lucille earned her position all on her own I’ll have you know.” Alm frowned. “I had no hand in her promotion. Not even Mathilda did.”

“Oh?” Lukas took another glance at the other groups. Mathilda was surrounded by other higher-ups in the Brotherhood, while Lucille had friends and admirers surrounding her, a few he recognized from training. Even in the same room, mother and daughter walked in very different circles. “Well, I suppose that means she’ll suffer no accusations of nepotism.”

Alm’s mouth twitched down. “I wish they had a better relationship. Parents and their children should get along.”

Lukas attempted to recall thoughts of his mother and father, but the years that separated him and their deaths were arduous on his memory. They had cared for him, made sure he was clothed and fed. He supposed as her only child his mother had loved him, but he could not remember reacting as strongly as a child should have at her death. It was after a long bout of illness that would inevitably take her life. Would he have reacted so coldly if it had been sudden, like Forsyth's-

“Lukas?”

Lukas’s eyes shifted back to the sound of his name. “Ah, apologies, Alm. Lost in thought for a moment. Age tends to make the mind wander from time to time.”

But Alm frowned as if dissatisfied with Lukas’s response. Before they could say more, however, one of the noble guests bowed to Alm and began conversing. Lukas vaguely remembered their face but not their name. Most of the noble’s words were compliments and condolences that implied how their family would be honored to “support the king in these trying times.” Artifice in an attempt to gain favor. Alm answered them with all the decorum his position required, yet Lukas noticed his eyes glazed over when responding. He was already somewhere far away but practiced enough not to break the facade of attention.

Lukas felt little sympathy for the noble’s plight with how sycophantic he acted, yet Alm’s reactions were still unsettling. Progress was coming along but save for his duties Lukas was unsure how much Alm interacted with other people.

His hands wandered towards his vest pocket to feel the outline of Luthier’s response.

_You have to convince Delthea not, and I mean not under any circumstance, send Lyra to me at this time. Delthea and I did not begin our formal magic training until we were ten, and being in a new environment will wreak havoc on her control over her magical capabilities. I will try my best when her family visits to argue on my end, but as a friend, I trust you can give her a more objective response. Perhaps she’ll be more willing when it comes from someone outside the family since she never seems to listen to me._

_We've begun to follow the plans you sent. The ground is still frozen in some spots, so construction has not officially started, but we have started to assemble the appropriate materials. Most in the nearby village are intrigued, while the children are quite excited about the prospect, if not for the extra chores. They send their thanks and love for the gifts, as do I._

_As for Alm, I think you shouldn’t sell yourself too short. Both of you have gone through the pain of loss, have you not? It might be best for you to open up more. Friends are supposed to be open with each other. That might prove difficult for you, but I think that’s your best bet._

_-Luthier_

Another request, but one more simple than Mathilda’s request months before. He had quickly sent a letter to Delthea, who would remain in the city until spring with her younger children. The last part of the message Lukas decided to ignore for the time being. It wouldn’t work to press Alm for more information, not when they were beginning to share things about one another outside of what their relationship had been during the war. They were, slowly, becoming actual friends. And as such, Lukas knew he didn’t want to breach the subject of his own emotions, not when Alm’s were still so raw.

Soon, the conversation between Alm and the noble finished. Once he returned to one of the other discussions, Alm let out a sigh. “That was harder than I thought it would be.”

“Most forays into conversations heavily tampered by etiquette are,” Lukas replied, and the king covered his mouth to hide a snicker.

“I think it’s time for me to leave these fine young soldiers to their night to shine,” Alm replied. “Will you come with me? There’s something I wanted to show you.”

“Of course,” Lukas replied. He had learned that Alm showing him something new is much better than a formal event.

(~)

After notifying the guards of his leave, Alm guided Lukas back to the royal apartments, only this time they passed the door to the king’s private rooms.

“So I guess that joke about teaching Percy how to fetch was unsuccessful,” Lukas commented. Since Lukas regularly visited this part of the castle, whether to have tea or help tend the steadily growing plant pots, he had become even more familiar with the cat.

“As his grandfather, I respect his desires to be the best freeloader he can be,” Alm replied.

Lukas also learned that Alm was, in fact, as crazed about cats in general as Luthier.

“You spoil him, that’s why he never listens to you,” Lukas remarked and partially wondered if anyone could hear them and questioning the king’s sanity. Maybe if they did, Lukas could say that it was due to Alm missing his daughter? Not every person was familiar with a fanatic’s mannerisms.

“You only think that because he likes you. And you didn’t even have to give him food.” Alm stopped at another double-door near the end of the hall, taking out a key putting it in the lock. “But that’s not the reason I asked you to come. How’s research going?”

“Well, I think. Nearing the beginning of Lima I’s reign, but forming my words are a bit slower going. I might need your assistance again.”

“I’d be glad to be of service, but I think I found something else that might be helpful.” Alm opened the door and stepped inside. Lukas followed. With the light from the setting sun coming through a large window, he was able to make out a small settee and two padded wooden chairs that surrounded a prominently sized fireplace. Along the wall were two wooden library shelves, high enough to cover the ceiling. The first and most of the second were filled with the spines of books, but the upper two were dedicated to various scrolls. Lukas slowly stepped towards them.

“When we moved in this room was in some disuse,” Alm explained. “But there were some books and old scrolls, so we decided to have it as our personal library. Not bother the actual scholars with our pleasure reading, but I thought you might find something in them of use to your research.”

Lukas turned back to Alm. “This is very generous of you. I don’t know… I would like to repay you somehow.”

The other man shrugged. “Having you as a sparring partner has been helping me a lot. It is the least I can do. I’ll have a spare key made for you.” Alm then went towards a small log rack beside the fireplace and began to lift it. “It’ll get dark soon, but fire should give you some light, even with the grate...”

Lukas’s fingers reached for the scrolls, before giving pause. They were tempting, yes, but he could pour over them another day. His hand brushed along the book spines as heat from the kindled fire began to creep behind his back. “...I thought it could do for me to get some more ideas on storytelling. Any histories or tales you would recommend?”

No response, but before Lukas could ask if that was an issue, a shadow trailed up above him. Alm’s arm reached just above his shoulder to pull a volume from the shelf.

“This one.” His voice was close enough that he felt breath on the crown of his head. It was still disorienting how Alm, once only reaching his shoulders, had grown taller than Lukas. “...I used to read it to Tierney when she had trouble sleeping. Has some old folktales of Valentia even before the Accord. Mostly fictional since a lot of the old knowledge was destroyed, but...”  
  
When Alm backed up to properly hand it to Lukas, he shook his head. “If it is that close to you, I would like to hear you read it.”

It was hard to tell if it was the setting sun or the flicker of the fire, but Alm’s face seemed to redden. “I won’t be very good.”

“No one is here but us, so why should that matter?” Lukas replied, before taking one of the chairs. “It would be nice to hear someone else read for a change.”

It took a little more goading, but then Alm began to read. His tempo was a tad awkward, but the action scenes allowed him to find his stride.

Lukas closed his eyes, following the path that Alm’s words followed, of time before dragons had even set foot in their homeland.

(~)  
By the time Lukas bid the guards on shift a good evening and made way back to his room, the sun had entirely set, yet the lanterns hadn’t yet been lit. Despite growing more familiar with the castle layout, how heavy his eyes after spending so long having them closed might have caused Lukas to make a wrong turn. He was only brought out of his stupor by the sound of voice engaging in a heated argument.

“-This isn’t how I wanted our reunion to be-!”

“Now is the perfect opportunity, Talis! Why can’t you listen to reason?”

Two women’s voices, the first Lukas recognized and now confirmed was Talis, a skilled lance wielder in the training group. The other sounded familiar, but in a way, he found more challenging to place. Slowly, he inched towards where he heard the voices come from to peak ahead. Long blonde hair, the same shade as her mother’s, was tossed behind Lucille’s shoulder as she grasped Talis’s arms.

“Let go of me,” Talis replied but made no struggle.

“I want us to stay together. My plan is how we can stay together and how you get that promotion you have deserved for years now.” Lucille replied. When Talis did now answer, she backed away and groaned in frustration.

Talis, then, replied. “I’m not going to use our bond to cheat my way into a position. That is not the type of knight I want to become.”

“So you’re fine with ending up like Maurice? Playing guard at the gate?” Lucille responded. “If you were my squire then you would have an easy way of moving up.”

“When Princess Tierney returns, perhaps there will be change-”

Lucille’s tone grew harsher with the princess's name. “How’s that any different from my idea?”

“Because it would be through my merit, not yours!” Talis’s voice raised in response. This was the most Lukas had ever heard her speak, and also the loudest the usually taciturn trainee was. “Until you accept that I have my own ideas of who I want to be outside of your shadow, then it would be best for us to remain apart for the time being.”

“Talis, that’s not-”

“Good night, Dame Lucille.” Talis walked away. Lucille watched her as she and letting out a low curse, only to turn towards Lukas and meet his eyes before he turned back.

Lukas was about to give an excuse, but how Lucille flinched and her sturdy frame shuddered at his sight was unexpected.

“...Good evening, Sir Lukas.” Lucille mumbled.

Oh, she was going to try to feign ignorance.

“Good evening,” Lukas replied. “And congratulations. I apologize for not saying so to you earlier. You have become a fine knight.”

“Thank you,” Lucille replied, but then her shoulders slumped. “How much of that did you hear?”

Lukas wanted to reassure her, but he felt that dishonesty might make her more on edge. “A bit, I’m afraid. I should not have eavesdropped, and once again I apologize for my lack of decorum.”

“Great,” Lucille sighed, and a hand reached up to rub the back of her neck. “Damn… listen, don’t tell, I mean, could you not speak of this to my moth-ugh, just, don’t tell General Mathilda, please?”

There was a long pause as Lukas processed the amounts of cut-offs and stops within that single sentence. It seems Lukas had walked into two personal issues with other people he attempted to avoid: romantic and familial problems. He would need to bring a lantern if he traversed this side of the castle at night again.

“I promise not to share what I have heard with your mother or anyone else.” He replied. “What occurred is your personal business, and I have no taste for gossip.”

In the dimmed light, how relieved Lucille looked was saddening. Lukas remembered what it was like, wanting so desperately to hide things from a parent for fear that it would be taken away or misjudged. Mathilda was not like his father, though. At the very least, he hoped she wasn’t.

“However,” Lukas continued before Lucille retreated. “I think she might be someone you can turn to in this situation. I’m sure she has had romantic troubles before.”  
“Every time I hear someone talk about her and my father they say how sickeningly in love they were,” Lucille replied, not looking at all convinced.

“Well, yes.” Lukas conceded. “But still, speaking to someone with that experience might be of help. I don’t think you have been quite open with yours and Miss Talis’s relationship. Am I wrong?”

Another pause was enough to know he was right.

“I should be on my way,” Lukas said, but before getting much further, Lucille stepped in his way but with her gaze averted. “Is there something else?”

“I know you said that you don’t like gossip, but I want to know. You and mother, are you…?”

Oh, that little rumor continued to travel around the castle halls even now. Lukas bit back a sigh of frustration. Better to let that gossip die now then comment on how Lucille was pushing her luck with his generosity.

“No. I have no romantic designs on your mother, Dame Lucille. We are comrades, that is all.” Lukas replied. “Now, good night.”

Lucille gave a brief salute as if deciding now was the time to stick to military protocol. “Have a restful night, sir. And, thank you.”

(~)

A few days later, the exchange was still on Lukas’s mind. Though he planned to keep his promise, he wondered how long things would remain in stasis if he left it alone. It wasn’t his place, but the thought of doing something needled at him.

The sound of something dripping caught his attention, and he looked to find that the paper he had been taking notes on was covered with ink blots. He set his quill down. Thankfully the codex he had been looking at not been damaged in his carelessness. Not anymore, at least, as there was various marginal notes and drawings within the margins. It was supposed to focus on a section of rulers before Lima I. Though originating from the Champion Zofia, the Limas were from the previous line that was given power through the Church of Mila when the last head of the direct line died without heirs. While that should have lead to some conflict, due to Mila and her Saints’ influence over the proceedings, the exchange of power was a success. He remembered learning of some of their military exploits before the dynasty, but very little of the cultural differences between them were discussed even in this volume. Perhaps it was time he went looking through those scrolls.

Lukas shut the codex, leaving it on the table to be appropriately shelved by one of the librarians as he gathered up his notes and left the stacks. It was just after the noontime bell, so that meant lunch was being served in the barracks. His plans, however, were quickly diverted by the man standing just outside the library. Alm was there, dressed a bit plainer than his usual royal garb: old boots, black trousers, and a dyed wool tunic. He also had medium-sized rucksack hanging over his arm.

“You’re here,” Alm said with a smile.

“I am,” Lukas replied because he wasn’t quite sure what else to say. “Going out for a stroll?”

“Oh? Oh, yes.” Alm answered. “It’s a clear day out, and I had a free afternoon, so thought a walk around the woodland would be nice. Would you like to come?”

Lukas own plans were not that exciting, so he agreed. After dropping off his things and changing into some sturdier boots from his wardrobe (and ignoring looking at the lance for too long while doing so), he was ready to go. Though there was a stiff breeze, that cut through the trees bare branches, it was, in fact, still a bright day and the sun was shining high.

Once they were far enough away from the main grounds, their conversation lulled as Alm undid his knapsack, and pulled out a dull brown cloak.

“...So, I wasn’t entirely truthful about where I wanted to go today...” Alm began. Maybe it was the light, but he looked more awake and excited than Lukas had seen him in months.

He was about to have a very, very interesting afternoon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for returning to this fic! Sorry about the long wait. I plan on having the next chapter and one after it to be coming out much sooner than before to prepare for traveling in mid-July.


	9. Unexpected Afternoon

Though not as bustling when Lukas made a market trip during the festival season, there was a good deal of people purchasing daily necessities and delights under the bright afternoon sun.

“Here, keep the change.”

“Oh, bless you, sir! Just bless you!”

“It’s only your hard work that should be blessed.”

With how much coin Alm kept on his person, Lukas wondered how his true identity had not yet been discovered.

Alm came back with a jar of preserves that he put into his knapsack. Along with the dried meat, bread and other small bits and ends he had gathered in the market, it was starting to get slightly stuffed. Lukas wondered if there were any pickpockets around, and if they happen to snatch the bag, it would have ended this shopping trip. Lukas didn’t expect violence done to Alm- if he had he would’ve refused the king’s request immediately- but Lukas did not want to deal with the potential political fallout of him being discovered and overrun by a crowd of people.

“Everything is so lively around here!” Alm said to him after securing the top of his bag, before slinging it over one of his shoulders. Though the hood obscured the top half of his face, the rest of the coat did nothing to hide the formidable cut of his figure due to years of military training and upkeep. Alm could never pass for a civilian. Still, the exuberance in his tone was unmistakable. “I never expected the market to be like this.”

Those words confused Lukas. “Wait, you’ve never been to one? But I thought-?”

Alm shook his head. “Never one this big. Mycen forbids me from going into town growing up, and the village was small enough that any extra materials were traded between households. And during the war, well…”

“The Famine.” Lukas finished as a broader picture beginning to form for him. He did not remember much about Ram Village, but compared to the sprawling streets of the castle town it must have made Alm’s childhood home seem all the more enclosed. And during the war years, such markets were boarded up or raided in the more lawless parts of the continent. It was not a good time for business when most were getting by with what they could. “Yes, it would have been difficult to take a pleasant stroll in the areas we traveled through.”

Alm nodded. “Yeah. And there was so much work that needed to get done, so I never really had this experience. I think there was maybe… one time? Celica and I were at an indoor market in the mercenary kingdom and… well, they knew who we were, so it wasn’t like we could walk around casually like this.”

There was a slight shift in Alm’s tone, sounding less excited and more nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

Alm’s fiddled with the loose end of one of his gloves. They were the ones he usually used for gardening, and were cracked and threadbare, though they did the job of hiding the brand well. “I’m probably acting foolish right now. A walk like this is something that shouldn't be such a big deal, yet I keep dragging you to every stall we come across.”

While Lukas was, admittedly, irritated with not being informed of Alm’s intentions earlier, that did not mean he saw them as foolish. “On the contrary, I think it’s good to know about the places and people that surround you. A ruler should know of all walks of life in his kingdom.”

“You truly think so?”

“I do,” Lukas replied, then turned to look back at the various stalls, packed with goods and vendors, and people who had enough coin to buy. A far cry from decades prior. “Rather than purely for pleasure, take this experience as a way to better know your subjects, their wants, and needs outside of meeting them in your throne room.”

“Right.” Alm gave a resolute nod, nearly knocking his hood back. Lukas reached up and made sure it was secure. While Alm was preoccupied, Lukas also took the knapsack from his grasp. “What are you-?”

“I’ll hold it for a bit,” Lukas replied with a placating smile. Alm scowled but didn’t voice another complaint. “Now, where do you want to go next?”

Alm deliberated for a moment, before looking towards a stall with roasting nuts, a sign beside it that said they were “perfect on a cold day.”

“I suppose a snack wouldn’t hurt,” Lukas said. “Only one bag, though- it wouldn't do spoiling your appetite.”

Though he couldn’t see his eyes, Lukas could feel a withering look come from Alm based on Lukas’s tone of voice. “I am a grown man, Sir Lukas.”

He hid his chuckle with the pretense of a cough. Though Lukas better understood why Alm acted on this venture, he also didn’t want to pass up the chance to tease the king. After all, it was a more effective way to let out the rest of his underlying frustration.

But when Alm purchased an extra three helpings of nuts, Lukas almost thought that Alm was pettier than he had first thought until he asked which way the apothecary was.

(~)

“Good afternoon, and welcome to our one of three store chains in fair Valentia! How might I- oh, Lukas. It’s you.” Leon’s mask of professionalism dropped into a more organic expression as the two entered. Save for him and Anna restocking shelves. No one else was in the storefront. “What brings you here? You’ve begun to send word if you plan on stopping by.”

“Apologies Leon. A friend of mine wished to take a look at your wares. He even brought a gift.” Lukas replied, gesturing towards Alm, still wearing his hood.

“A gift?” Leon echoed. At the mention of the word, Anna stopped her work and skipped up to Alm.

“What kind of gift? Is it jewels, money, or an ancient artifact from a distant land?” Anna enquired, hands clasped behind her back. Lukas was grateful to see that she seemed to have fully recovered from her illness.

“Hey, don’t be ungrateful,” Leon called out to the girl. This elderly gentleman thought of us, and you should appreciate it.”

“He’s not that old, Leon! I can see his face better than you can.”

Leon’s face grew flushed, but before he could give his rebuttal, Alm let out a deep belt of laughter and removed his hood.

“I’m afraid my gift doesn’t suit the fancies of a lady such as yourself.” With a bow, he presented Anna with a small bag of roasted nuts, sugared upon request to appeal to a child’s appetite. “For you.”

Leon took a quick, gasp-like inhale when the hood fell, and Anna took the offered bag.

She held it for a moment, opening it and taking a bite, and then frowned. “They’re cold!”

Whether it was Anna’s frank retort, Alm’s look of dismay, or Leon’s small groan of embarrassment that set him off, Lukas had to cover his mouth to hide his snickering.

“I’m so sorry; I thought- I thought they wouldn't cool in my pocket. My mistake.” Alm replied.

“It’s alright, we can use the little oven to heat them up, and then they’ll be fine,” Anna replied, before stepping in closer and covering her mouth, as if to share a secret. “There’s a small coal heater in the back we use to make tonics. It could work well, do you want to see it?”

“Anna,” Leon called weakly. “I’m sure he has more important things to do today than that-”

“That sounds terrific, Anna. I’ve never seen anything like that.” Alm replied. His curiosity made his eyes light up. “Is that alright, Leon? I don’t want to intrude too much on your time.”

“It’s… it’s…” Leon looked somewhat at a loss, his usually smooth forehead now having noticeable lines and wrinkles as he deliberated the ethics of turning away the king of a country from his store. “...That would be fine, Alm, just fine.”

“I have two extra for you and your husband.” Alm offered.

Leon offered a small smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Eli is out right now, but I promise not to each his share,” Anna answered, before grabbing Alm’s wrist and pulling him behind the counter and passing Leon to head into the back of the shop. “Duck down, so you don’t hit your head!”

Thankfully, Alm heard just in time to miss the top of the archway. It would have been hard to explain that bump while taking a leisurely stroll.

Leon leaned his elbows against the counter with a sigh once the two had left. “Now I really wish you had let me know about this in advance.”

“Apologies, Leon. If I could have better prepared you I would have sent word,” Lukas then looked back through the archway, making out Alm’s head and broad shoulders shook and leaned over to better follow Anna’s instruction on how to use the device. “But I suppose it’s hard to say no to a king.”

When Lukas turned back to Leon, the other man was staring at him with an expression the former couldn’t quite place, and the intensity of his gaze made Lukas a bit unnerved. Was he about to receive a tongue lashing? “...I promise to purchase something to make up for your time if that works best.”

“Huh? Oh, no. It’s been a slow day anyway.” Leon replied, his gaze turning back to look over the shop. “However, if you would be a dear and reshelve some wares while Anna is preoccupied, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

With a smile, Lukas did what he was suggested to do like the smell of reheated snacks underlying the herbal scents of the shop. When Alm and Anna returned, the latter was now happily eating her share, and Alm gave Leon his. Despite a small objection to watching his weight, Leon still ate a few handfuls. Alm asked for some tips on taking care of the plants, which, at least for the two gardeners tending to them, seemed to be doing well. The last time Lukas watered the rosemary, he noticed that the delicate and sparsely leaved branches had grown. Leon had suggested maintaining the pace they were going with both, but if there were signs of wilt he told them to limit how much they watered.

“Only water if the soil feels dry, and make sure it’s in a place that gets at least a couple of hours of sunlight every day,” Leon instructed. “I can ask Eli to write up some more suggestions, but the most you need to understand with those is not to coddle them. They can grow in cold weather for a reason, and only a bit of nurturing can make them flourish.”

The rest of the conversation was cut short, however, when a customer did come in. With a quick movement of his hood and a bow to both Leon and Anna, and a more vocal goodbye from Lukas, they left the apothecary.

“That was an enlightening experience,” Alm said once they were a safe distance from the door. “Leon knows his stuff… It’s no wonder Celica spoke of him with such deference.”

That was right: Leon had been one of the people that accompanied the queen on her pilgrimage to rescue Mila. For the first time, Lukas began to wonder how Leon had taken the news of her death.

“He is a capable man. We have only recently reconnected. I regret not strengthening our bonds of friendship sooner. Python always made sure to visit him whenever he was in the capital.” Lukas remarked as they walked, but felt his steps grow a bit heavier. “...I wonder if they saw each other when Forsyth…”

_This ain’t my kind of lifestyle, Lukas. And I never cared about dying gracefully. What makes you think I’d want to now? Now that Forsyth’s-_

  
A warm, gloved hand rested against his shoulder. “Lukas, are you alright?”

The touch and the question brought him back from the memory of Python's voice “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“No. But after you stopped what you were saying, it felt like you left me for a bit.”

“Left? But I’m here.” Lukas responded, acting innocent.

“I mean…” Alm trailed off, before sighing. “It’s alright for you to say you don’t wish to talk about it, but you don’t have to pretend it is nothing for my benefit.”

“What if it’s not for your benefit?” Lukas replied.

“Then I won’t pry.” Alm’s hand dropped. “Now, I thought I saw a bookstall in the market. As thanks for guiding me on my excursion, I’ll buy you one of whichever one you wish.”

It took another moment for Lukas to gather his thoughts, before following. “...Today was worth at least two.”

  
(~)

In the late afternoon sun, they finally had their picnic. Lukas dipped a piece of fresh bread into the jar of fruit preserves with relish. They had no cutlery to use, but most of the food could be handled without much mess. Alm was eating a piece of cured ham and flipping through one of the novels Lukas had picked at the bookstall. He had ended up choosing three, but the one in Alm’s hands required more proper binding. It was a reprint of the first of Genny’s novels, a coming of age story of one girl trying to find her father. A very rookie first endeavor, but it held its own charm. Some of Lukas’s students back at the manor enjoyed the series, but he had never taken the chance to pick it up. He had preferred the author’s stories intended for older audiences. However, his eyes had gotten tired, and he had given it to Alm to read instead.

“I’m surprised you like novels,” Alm replied after finishing his ham flipping to another page with his clean hand. “You’re so determined in your research I had thought histories were more to your liking?"

“I can appreciate any good story,” Lukas replied, before taking a bite of the bread and giving a small hum of appreciation. Fresh bread and fruit jam, while simple, was an everyday treat. “Whether real or fictional, it’s always been nice for me to escape for an hour or two.”

Alm closed the novel, setting it to rest on top of the knapsack. “What do you mean by escape?”

Lukas thought for a moment about whether or not he wished to share his thoughts but then realized any other person directly affected by his actions in childhood were already long dead. Interesting how the passage of time could make different things more comfortable or more challenging to discuss. “When I was a boy, my father decided that since my older brother was to inherit his title and land, the world dictated that I become a soldier, and spend my youth dedicated to learning the arts of war so that I could bring more glory to my house. I rebelled in small ways, with one of them being sneaking out various books that had little to do with my training. Reading used to be an escape for me, so I always default to that word when describing it, I suppose.”

Lukas leaned forward, tapping the top of the first page. “If he saw me with a book like this, he would have tossed it into the fireplace.”

Alm’s face twisted into an expression he rarely saw: anger. “That’s… that’s horrible.”

Lukas shrugged. “I thought so, too, at the time. I thought about how frustrating it was unable to let out my emotions, to do the things I enjoyed, but… well, now, I think it's a misunderstanding a lot of people have. Parents and children are inherently separate individuals,” he took another bite of his bread, savoring it before continuing. “In his way, my father did love me and thought what he was doing was best for me in the long run. But he only viewed me as an extension of himself. Some of the kids I have taught come to the school either because their parents see a rope that binds them together, or because that tie has snapped.”

“You have such a grim perspective on parenthood,” Alm answered. It wasn’t an accusation, only a statement.

Lukas smiled. “That doesn’t mean I’m accusing you of that, Alm. It’s simply my hypothesis. Easily disproved.”

Alm picked up the book again, placing it in his lap as if to guard it against the threat of invisible fire. “Is that why you decided not to have children?”

Oh, they had gotten to this question. It had taken longer than usual in their rekindled friendship to do so, but in casual conversations with nobles it always came up at one point or another- why have you not passed your seed, your legacy? Don’t you want something of you to remain in the world?

Despite defeating the gods, Lukas had found that people always sought different ways of achieving immortality. Hadn’t his actions already proven he had wanted nothing to do with that?

“Perhaps,” Lukas replied. “I think I’m just fine with the thought of the children I’ve taught were able to carry something with them that will be of use to them at one point in their lives. If I’ve achieved that, then that’s all I need.”

Lukas continued to eat his meal, but he could feel Alm’s eyes watching him. Maybe to see a crack in his face of something unsaid, to discover if the mild-mannered response was a simple facade. The king, after all, had probably never realized that that was Lukas. And, for the most part, he was at peace with that. He had already achieved what he wanted, so what good would it do to look back on what came before with nostalgia or disappointment?

Maybe that was a denial of his loneliness, but that didn’t diminish that Lukas was still content with the choices he made.

“Lukas, can I tell you something?”

Lukas turned, and Alm was still looking at him. “Sure.”

He leaned forward and rested a hand on against his arm, a sign of comfort. “I think you are a good man. Just as yourself.”

Lukas wondered if Alm had told something similar to his daughter since he would say a similar phrase to his students when they confessed some small mistake. Lukas also wondered if Alm would have told him that if he knew the actual reason he had come back into Alm’s life.

“...You are as well.”

That probably wasn’t the correct response, but the sound of horse hooves cut the chance for any further discussion. Mathilda appeared on a destrier bred for war rather than afternoon excursions, but the horse did its job all the same and probably preferred the latter.

“Ah, there you two are.” Mathilda dismounted, holding onto the reins as she gave Alm the customary bow. “Apologies, your majesty, but the chancellor asked me to find you. There has been an influx of messages that need to be tended to before supper with Senator Giles.”

Alm nodded, but he looked tired.

“I can handle the remains of the picnic.” Lukas offered.

“Right, and thanks again for the afternoon,” Alm said, a brief twinkle then crossed his eye. “We should do it again sometime.”

“My knees might need a bit of a rest before then,” Lukas answered. Mathilda watched the exchange without comment as Alm got to his feet and Mathilda passed him the reins.

“I’ll return with Sir Lukas,” Mathilda said. Alm gave the general a nod and her and Lukas a wave, before climbing into the saddle and riding off at a brisk trot. Once Lukas had finished gathering what remained into the knapsack, she offered him a hand to help him to his feet, which he took gratefully. He hadn’t been joking about his knees.

“Things seem to be going well,” Mathilda commented with a smile. “He’s looked better today than I’ve seen him in ages. What did you two do?”

“Just got a bit of fresh air and some good food,” Lukas replied, which was once again the truth, if not all of it. “He deserves a break. More than a free afternoon once in a while.”

“We all need to figure out how the chain of command will change with the queen’s death,” Mathilda answered, a grim frown on her face. “Until we set up a proper system, Alm I’m afraid will continue to be overworked. We had hoped that there would have been more time to handle only one sovereign, the illness had other plans.”

Lukas pondered though words. “Perhaps it calls for some further distribution of jobs amongst council members. Some new blood. If any young politicians have the same grit I’ve seen in the young recruits and castle soldiers, I bet they could easily make up the difference.”

“You know as well as I do that it’s not that simple,” Mathilda replied. “If we show signs of rapid change, the neighboring nations might take that as preparations for war. With the princess in a foreign land and the queen’s diplomatic skills, that could be dire for our nation.”

“Hm,” Lukas replied

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, it simply sounds like someone else I know,” Lukas replied. It reminded him a lot of Lucille’s sentiments. Perhaps parents and their children were more alike than he had first assumed. “By the way, have you talked with Lucille since she’s returned?”

“It’s only been a day,” Mathilda said in a somewhat defensive manner. “...Besides, I doubt she would want to talk to me anyway. I was never the “traditional” mother for her.”

“In my experience, no one had steadfastly stuck to a tradition of any sort among our group,” Lukas remarked. “Why do you suppose you have to now?”

“You don’t understand, Lukas.”

“Maybe not, but I think it’s better to talk to your daughter instead of both of you ignoring each other’s presence at public events,” Lukas replied. “It at least would be better to know where you stand.”

Mathilda groaned. “Fine, fine. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Lukas replied. “After all, you are a good woman, Mathilda. I would dislike for you to think otherwise.”

Mathilda’s eyes narrowed, not commenting on that, and they walked back to the castle speaking of other subjects.


	10. Divisions We Make

Life was so peaceful in the weeks that followed the king’s excursion that Lukas had nearly forgotten Luthier’s request until he received a scroll in the mail set with a ribbon and wax stamped with a signet ring. He had seen the emblem close enough before Luthier broke the wax to know who it was from this time.   
  
Despite all their differences, both Luthier and Delthea never forgot a promised teatime.   
  
On a cloudy winter day three days after he sent back his reply, Lukas bundled himself into a carriage Delthea had sent for him. Realistically he should have been able to walk- the higher-end district was not far, but the cold afternoon made his throat sting, and Lukas was grateful for the consideration. Bundling himself into the throw blanket inside and save for exchanging a few pleasantries with the driver Lukas remained quiet, trying to think of a way to approach Delthea on sending Lyra away for training. For all, he had seen on her annual visits to the school, or when Luthier would go to their estate for a holiday, Delthea cared for her children. Unlike many high-ranking women, she had not foisted them onto a nurse as soon as they had weaned. It didn’t make sense for her to send Lyra to Luthier when other magical tutors were readily available and would allow her young daughter to remain within the comfort of home for a few years yet.   
  
Lukas was pulled out of his thoughts when the carriage door opened. He smiled in thanks to the driver, giving him a gold piece after he climbed down. A doorman had already opened the door for him, dressed in a quilted tunic to keep out the chill of going in and out of doors regularly. Lukas entered into a grand, if from one perspective slightly gaudy, front room. There was a variety of bric a brac on display: Delthea’s husband enjoyed trips around the continent and even took a few to Archanea the past few years. He always brought back something expensive and utterly impractical to display in one of their homes, according to Delthea. However, she still had a touch of fondness in her voice whenever she talked about it. The centerpiece of the room was a large staircase carved with intricate designs, a near perfect imitation of grapevines. The doorman gave him a slight bow and helped him remove his outer coat and gloves. He was probably a decade Lukas’s junior, yet had some prominent gray streaks in his well-coiffed hair.

  
After putting his belongings in a small side room, the man raised his hand to gesture where they would go next.“Lady Delthea is waiting for you in the drawing-room, Sir Lukas. And I heard the tea has just been set, impeccable timing on your part. If you would follow me-”   
  
“Lukas!” A voice called up from the staircase, one that had grown deeper since the last he heard it. “Lukas is that you?”   
  
“Hm, what a familiar voice…” Lukas said louder than usual. “It sounds like- no, it couldn’t be-”   
  
The sound of footsteps stomping down the steps came through his ears, and he turned around just in time to have two hands grab him and spin his arms back and forth. One of Delthea’s twins, Charlotte, smiled at him- she had grown tall enough to meet his eye level. Must take after her uncle.   
  
“It is you! Oh, what an absolutely wonderful surprise!” Charlotte laughed, swinging their arms back and forth and beginning to hum.   
  
“Lottie, don’t roughhouse with Lukas, you aren’t a child anymore,” Slower sets of footsteps descended the staircase. Charlotte’s twin, Marius, who was also holding the hand of a small child wearing bright yellow ribbons in her small braids: that must be Lyra, though he hadn’t seen her since she was a toddler. She had a serious little face, puckered up from concentration trying to walk down the stairs without tripping on her long dress.

Huh, if he remembered correctly, Charlotte wasn’t out of child dresses until she was ten. He wondered if children closer to the city were being forced to grow up even faster, or it was merely Lyra being prepared for all the necessary etiquette before she was sent up north.   
  
“Oh pooh-pooh to you, Marius,” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “As if you weren’t the one who cried halfway back home after we left Uncle’s school last trip because you couldn’t read all of the libraries in two weeks.”   
  
Marius’s pale freckled face reddened at the accusation. “Well, at least I act my age around visitors.”   
  
Lukas decided it would be best to intervene before a sibling squabble got truly underway- Charlotte’s shoulders were already raising, and he remembered how they could come to blows when they were younger. “It is indeed wonderful to see you all. I had hope that I would hear about you from your mother while I was here.”   
  
The twins looked slightly deflated at his response.   
  
“Oh, this is for… adult things, I suppose,” Charlotte replied, folding her hands behind her back.   
  
Lukas gave the girl a small pat on the shoulder. “I should have plenty of free time yet after tea. Why don’t we all catch up afterward?”   
  
Just like that, the two brightened. Lyra was staring at the palms of her hands, concentrating.   
  
“Thank you, sir,” Marius smiled. “I have read some more theories about Jugdrali history that I so look forward to sharing with you-”   
  
Charlotte retook Lukas’s hand. “I want to show you how my form has improved with my sword. Oh, and I’ve taken up knitting as a hobby. I made some hand warmers and tea cozies that would be perfect for you-”   
  
“Children,” The doorman coughed. “Young Master, Young Mistress, I am surprised at you. Young Miss Lyra is the most behaved of the three of you.”   
  
As soon as he said it, a moderately sized ball of fire appeared in Lyra’s hands.   
  
Lukas watched the doorman then quickly scream for a water bucket, and then had a small inkling as to why he had so many gray hairs. He walked over to the child.   
  
“Very impressive, Lyra,” Lukas said. “However, I don’t think it’s a good idea to do that sort of thing indoors.”   
  
Lyra nodded, going back to the flame in her palms and concentrating once more. As soon as the water bucket arrived, the fire was out, leaving only a faint smell of smoke in the air.   
  
“Young… Miss…”   
  
“Jeffrey, what’s taking you so long?! See Sir Lukas in!” Delthea’s voice carried quite well down the hall. “And children, there are sweets in the kitchen for you- now leave the adults be for a bit!”   
  
“Yes, mother!” All three chimed back and quickly jogged down the hallway, Lyra nearly tripping on her long dress and then being pulled along by the twins.   
  
“Yes… Mistress,” Jeffrey sighed, his face covered in sweat. Lukas sincerely wished he could find a more relaxing line of work. “This way, sir.”   
  
(~)   
  
“So, how’s it like living up at the castle again, hear any good gossip?”

Lukas gave Delthea a serene smile as he settled his teacup into its saucer. “You know me, my lady. I have never been one to open my mouth about what my ears catch.”  
  
Delthea rolled her eyes but still had a shine in her eye that she always got when someone referred to her as a lady. “You’re still no fun at all. I always wondered why you never stayed in the service- you’re the perfect soldier. Quiet, calm, and you always have your mouth buttoned up tight.”   
  
Lukas took a sip to hide his discomfort at that dig before responding. “I think we both know you had other reasons for inviting me here today, Delthea.”   
  
“...Yes,” Delthea sighed, looking behind her back to see that the door had been shut. “Like what you saw today, Lyra’s inherited my family’s magic- roughly the same age I did. I noticed it straight away, but since we last spoke at the ball, she’s been trying to do more.”

He nodded, setting his tea aside and folding his hands in his lap. “Yes. So, you used to conjure fire like that?”  
  
Delthea’s serious face quirked up into a smile. “I would make balls of fire dance behind our house in secret; I didn’t want Luthier to know that I was doing magic without the “fundamentals” set in place.” She was looking at the trays of snacks stacked on top of the other in front of her rather than Lukas. “It surprised me that when I first sent word to Lu, his response wasn’t immediately to send her up- especially since I can’t look after her training myself.”

Lukas wondered whether Luthier ever told his sister that he had watched her practice outside during those times, or if it was a secret. He could remember Luthier grumbling that he didn’t want her to set their firewood ablaze on accident. Both of them would deny caring about the other until they were blue in the face, even when they did. Though he could never claim to have kept good relations with his brother, Lukas was familiar with looks of caring and admiration, and seeing them exchanged between other people.

“But why send her to him so young? He is family, and a gifted teacher and mage, but why is there such a rush?” Lukas questioned. “I’m sure you could find a tutor somewhere in the capital who would be happy to-”  
  
“I tried, Lukas.”   
  
His suggestions stuttered to a stop. Delthea was looking straight at him, all mirth leaving her face. “I conducted interviews- and every time, every time I told them about the signs- do you know what they said to me? “She will be a great asset in the future.” Or, “I can make her into the finest war mage Valentia has ever seen!” Placing thoughts of how much carnage she’ll be able to make, how useful she will be to a cause- mindsets like that are what caused Tatarrah to brainwash me in the first place. The desire for unlimited potential.”

Lukas pondered these words: as an educator, he was shocked. Were such individuals so blinded by a child’s potential that they couldn’t see that they were still a child? He had thought that things were different, that times changed without the thought of God’s desires or blessing clouding people’s minds. “There must be someplace closer that Lyra could stay, where she won’t be separated from you all- a priory, maybe another academy-?”

Delthea was twisting the napkin in her lap into knots. “No, no, you don’t get it at all-”  
  
“-Then tell me.” Lukas insisted.   
  
Delthea huffed, her face twisting into a scowl. “Things are different here compared to around the old borders. The tutors I found either came from military service or the Church. They're  _made_ of that kind of thought. Your school is such an enigma in this new country we call home. I trust Luthier, and I trust you. What you are doing at your school would give Lyra to still hold onto her own identity. That’s harder to do here. Any child that shows potential in something will seek out either of these places, and I’m- I’m afraid they will try to mold Lyra into someone else, before she even has the chance to figure out who she wants to _be_.”

The room went quiet again, so quiet that if Lukas strained his ear, he could hear a child’s laughter coming from somewhere else in the house.

“Sorry,” Delthea was the first to speak. “You didn’t deserve me blowing up at you like that.”   
  
“Well, when you explain things like that to me, a childless schoolmarm, it’s hard to argue with it.” Lukas offered with a smile. “... Still, I have to agree with Luthier. She is still young, Delthea.”   
  
“I know,” Delthea replied, then her voice went softer again. “I know. She’s my baby. I’m just afraid that if she acts out if the wrong person sees her doing magic, then I won’t be able to protect her.”   


“You are a friend of the king,” Lukas replied. “If anything happens, anything, Alm will do something.”   
  
“If he lives that long,” Delthea replied. “I saw what he was like near the solstice, Lukas. You don’t need to sugarcoat the state of affairs. Without the Queen, Alm looks ready to waste away.”   
  
That response, while it made sense- and Lukas himself held it just a few months ago as well, made something inside him burn.   
  
“Alm is not going to waste away,” Lukas answered, with more intensity than was necessary, judging by how Delthea’s posture changed. “He’s stronger than that. He’ll get through this. And grief won’t blind him to the troubles of friends, or his people.”   
  
“...Right.” Delthea replied. “Well, I guess you know him better than I do.”   
  
They continued the rest of their tea talking about how Delthea could negotiate with Luthier, as well as give extra precautions of Lyra doing magic, especially outside of the house. Lukas also suggested Lyra go back to short dresses, as they would be hard to catch alight.   
  
Afterward, Lukas did what he promised the twins, and as sundown approached, Lukas had some new ideas on how to approach his research, and a wool cap and new mittens adorned to keep him more protected from the chill. This time, Delthea saw him to the carriage.   
  
“Thank you again, Lukas,” Delthea replied. “I’m sorry to put you between Luthier and me- that’s never a good spot to be.”   
  
But he shook his head. He had heard both sides of the argument now, and he made his decision. “I don’t mind. Luthier and I have had some conflicts before, and while I agree with him, this is a family matter between you all, and I will do my best to explain your side as well.”   
  
“Oh don’t say that you’re practically family,” Delthea replied, a strange glint in her eye. “In fact, you are family. It must be hard, to be away from him for this long. I get down in the dumps whenever Remus is away for long.”

The combination of words and phrases made it difficult for Lukas to understand what Delthea was getting at, especially when mentioning her husband’s. “I… beg your pardon, who do you mean by him?”  
  
“Luthier, of course,” Delthea replied, her voice lowered. “Come now, Lukas, don’t think I don’t know about some academies, you two being together for years now, and the children even think of you as an uncle.”   
  
Lukas, decorum forgotten, heaved a long sigh. “Delthea, Luthier and I are not-”   
  
“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’ll keep it a secret! I know you both like privacy.” Delthea giggled.

Lukas wanted to tell her that there was no secret to keep, there had never, ever been a romantic attachment between him and her brother. That Luthier’s greatest loves in his life were magic, his cats, and being able to sit by the fire after a long day of teaching.  
  
Delthea instead pranced back into her house with a wave and a promise to visit again before spring before Lukas could get a word in edgewise, and Lukas felt the gaze of the coachman boring into his shoulder. Once more, he sighed.

One problem somewhat solved, three others to take its place.   
  
(~)

Once he was taken back at the castle, Lukas had then only just remembered that he had forgotten to water the atrium plants. Letting out a small curse, Lukas made a quick stop for the glasshouse shed, taking a watering can and filling it up to lug back inside, splashing the front of his coat in the process. Even with extra winter wear, by the time he reached the atrium, his body still felt chilled. Alm was there, the remnants of his own teatime beside him and going over some papers. Percy was in the other chair, paws splayed out and fast asleep.

“You’re back.” Alm got up, but his smile dropped. “And shivering.”

“My fault for forgetting to water the rosemary,” Lukas offered, walking past him to do his due diligence to the plants and then do a quick once-over for any ailments Leon told him to be on the lookout for, just in case. “Maybe I should take a sprig and tie it around my neck, so I remember-”

His body froze when he felt a pair of warm hands cover his chilled ears. 

“You should learn how to put on a cap properly, so it covers these,” Alm’s chiding slightly muffled before he pulled down the knit hat Charlotte had given Lukas to cover his ears properly. “Like this.”

He felt his face flush a little in embarrassment. He was the one who usually did the chiding, and to be on the receiving end of it at his age was not enjoyable.  
  
“I know,” Lukas turned around. “I was in a bit of a hurry is all.”

“Here, take my seat- I’ll ask for a heating pan and some blankets,” Alm assured him, and despite Lukas’s protests that he would be fine, ten minutes later Lukas was settled into his chair with a non-damp sweater, two blankets, and a hot pan to warm him.   
  
“I’m a grown man, Alm. I’m tougher than I look.” Lukas answered, but felt like the seriousness of his reply was weighed down by how amused the king looked, now sitting in the other chair with Percy in his lap.     
  
“Just a precaution. Who would help the plants survive if you were to catch a cold?”   
  
Lukas scowled but leaned back into the warmth and comfort. Part of him knew it would be uncomfortable to bring up, especially at a time like this. Alm had enough on his plate, and yet he couldn’t shake what Delthea had told him. “May I ask you something?”   
  
Alm nodded, using one hand to gather his papers and set them aside, showing him he had his attention.

“Today, I had an appointment with a friend, and they told me something I found… odd.” Lukas replied. “What do you know of how mages are trained, Alm?”  
  
“Very little,” Alm replied. “Most affairs within the magic side of the military were overseen by Celica, or from higher up war mages. I don’t know much.”   
  
That was what Lukas had expected, but, strangely, that knowledge gave him some relief. Whatever might be happening with magic users in the One Kingdom’s knights, Alm had not been at its head. “Thank you, it was… something on my mind is all.”   
  
“I’ll look into it more,” Alm replied.

He would have to object to that. “But you already have so much on your plate.”  
  
“If one of my people have an issue with those sworn to protect them, that is an issue I can’t look away from,” Alm replied, but his face was concerned. “I… wish Celica let me shoulder her load before, or I wouldn’t be so inept in her duties.”

Lukas didn’t want to bring up bad memories. “...One thing at a time. You are only a man, Alm, and if you were half as gentle with yourself as you are with others, I think your hair wouldn’t have turned white so quickly.”   
  
Alm’s eyebrows raised. “...Are you trying to cheer me up, or imply that I look like an old man, old man?”     
  
Lukas could feel his mouth quirk up without his input. It just came naturally. “What do you think?”   
  
The rest of the evening was filled with trying to one-up the other in backhanded compliments. A server brought them dinner as they continued to talk and joke. By the time Lukas retired, his body both inside and out warmed to a more welcome temperature.

Once he returned to his quarters, he got ready for bed. Lukas kept nearly all of his clothes in a set of drawers he acquired from a recently knighted squire now and had the wardrobe firmly shut. He didn’t know why, but keeping the Duma lance out in the open unnerved him. When he could see it, he had uncomfortable dreams. 

As he drifted off, Lukas thought about what Delthea said. She wanted her child to have a choice on what path their life took. Instead of thinking about her and Lyra, though, his mind went to Mathilda and Lucille. Another mother and daughter who were separated by the belief that it would be "for the best." It was this belief that now caused them both distress. Being a parent seemed a hundred times more difficult than Lukas had ever thought it could be.   
  
Had Alm ever had such a struggle? Lukas wanted to ask him. That was his last thought before being carried into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annndd we're back! Well, sort of. I apologize for the delay but got a bit under the weather in August, and then school started back up in September. It was harder to write long pieces like these chapters when I have my Master's thesis and graduate applications to think about ahahaha...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who returned and who are just starting to read this fic! Currently, we're one kudos away from 200, which is a fantastic feeling! If that goal is reached by the time of the next chapter, I'll set up another poll on what readers would like for either a side chapter or an AU! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope you stick around! I feel like all the pieces are now set up for events that will occur during the rest of the second and third parts of the story. We are currently in the second half of Wrymstym, which means spring will be on its way!


	11. Reflect and Refract Part I

_Lukas knew, for a fact, that he had had this dream before._

_The pain had returned, but this time the sharp pain across his body was so intense that his mind forced itself away, somewhere far off where he could see his own body broken and bleeding out in front of him._

**_Come now. Are you indeed going to let yourself die here?_ **

_The deep voice grated, and if Lukas had any control over his body, he would have told the voice to let him be at peace._

**_Hmph. A pity he chose someone so lacking for a champion._ **

_Lukas focused all willpower on grasping the lance that had been in his hand, but his hand only grabbed at the putrid muck that his body was sinking into. Just as he was about to slip away, he thought he heard the faint chime, so clear it was impossible to picture hearing it in such a gruesome scene. But then it chimed, again, and again. And with every chime, his pain grew worse and worse, until he felt he would truly die from how much it hurt. What was even worse, he could still hear the voice._

**_And so fortune spins once more in your favor. Such a waste of my power-_ **

\---

He wakes up and is relieved to be staring at the ceiling of his room in the castle, instead of the depths of whatever hell he had been in his dream.

After such an uncomfortable awakening, Lukas wanted nothing more than to remain in his bed for the remainder of the day. His whole body ached, but based on how damp his nightshirt was, Lukas knew he would catch a chill if he stayed in bed. He slowly peeled off his nightshirt and then took a moment to catch his breath, but the cold of the room then quickened his pace to stand up and go to his towel and basin. The bright sun eased its way through the window, allowing him to catch the muddled reflection of his face in the basin water. With how much his head was throbbing, he half-expected to see blood running down his face from a cut, but nothing was out of place in his reflection. He dipped the towel into the basin and disrupted his reflection.  
  
After drying his drenched body and changing into a fresh shirt, Lukas settled back on the bed. It had been months now since the dreams began, or based on the small flashes of imagery from the dream that remained in the back of his mind, had continued from some point.   
  
Wait, image…? He didn’t remember what the place he had been dying in his dream, did he? All he could remember was the feel of the muck, the sound of that voice, reaching out for his lance…   
  
His hand made the motion, aligning with his ill-used wardrobe. Lukas pulled his hand back and sighed.

Why had such dreams returned to him? He had been back in the capital for some time now, and he couldn’t blame them on getting settled. That first pull didn’t begin necessarily when he had returned.  
  
Lukas got to his feet once more, his bare feet padding along the smooth stone, and for the first time in weeks, he opened it.

The red eye still shined back at him, and he pressed his fingers against it, then pulled back. Despite the chilly morning, the jewel felt warm. Of course, why hadn’t he ever considered the danger of a weapon that was found in the depths of Fear Mountain and guarded by spectral forces and terrors would not be a simple tool?

Lukas felt his body ache again, but also strangely warm. He closed the wardrobe again and finished getting dressed. His further research into those scrolls in Alm’s library would have to wait. He had to get his hands on Rigelian-age texts.   
  
\---

“Lukas-”

“Mm?” Lukas had found himself fascinated with how his sugar dissolved in his afternoon tea to pay attention to Alm’s response. “Forgive me, but could you repeat that?”

“I said, have you been getting enough sleep?”

Alm’s concerned expression was becoming too much of a regular sight the past week. Lukas only came out of the library to eat, wash, and have tea or train with the king, leaving everything else a distant second. Part of him felt a twinge of guilt that he had been neglecting his instruction of the young soldiers, but Maurice was understanding when Lukas explained that his research had taken a more intensive turn. He had a feeling that such an explanation wouldn’t work with Alm.

“I’ve had enough sleep,” Lukas replied. He had gotten by with three hours rest in the army, so that could be considered enough.   
  
“...” Alm stood up, then walked back. Before Lukas could ask what was wrong, Alm held up his hand. “How many fingers am I holding up.”   
  
Lukas sighed. “Alm, this doesn’t have anything to-”   
  
“-How many?”   
  
Lukas narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the blurred lines of the king’s hand. “...Four.”   
  
“No,” Alm sighed, walking back and standing beside Lukas’s chair. “Come on; you need the rest. Spending too many days burning the candle at both ends will do this to you.”   
  
“As I said before, I’m perfectly fine,” Lukas replied, trying to raise his voice to sound more authoritative, but Alm remained where he was. “...Have you had time to look into the war mages?”   
  
“Yes, but you are in no state to discuss that,” Alm countered. “Maybe I will when you can follow more than three sentences at a time.”

Lukas scowled. How was he supposed to be of help to Alm if he kept things from him? “...Fine.”  
  
Alm smiled, offering his hand. “I’ll walk with you to your room, so you don’t collapse.”   
  
“I don’t want to sleep there-”

The king’s bemused face made Lukas realize that his mouth had run faster than his thoughts, and he scrambled for a proper excuse.   
  
“-I mean, there’s still light out, and my neighbors in the barracks will be wide awake for some time yet. I can find a quiet place in the library instead. The book-keeper and I have an arrangement.”

“And give you access to those dust-covered pages you crave? I think not,” Alm replied, only half-joking. “You can stay in my quarters.”   
  
Lukas couldn’t find his usual reasons to protest and took the offered hand. He wasn’t a young man anymore, after all, and near all-nighters had taken its toll without bearing fruit. There was nothing in the limited section of Rigelian texts the library shelves held. Most were novels and poems that had been of some cultural value, and even then he could find no reference to the lance. Perhaps he truly was out of it, since the whole world quickly went dark after they entered the hallway. Fast enough that Lukas didn’t even hear Alm’s response. Some advisor he was, working himself too hard on a personal ghost hunt.

Yet instead of returning to conscious on the carpet, Lukas felt himself resting in a warm, large bed. It was the first time he had ever laid down in it, and it was quite comfortable, even more plush than the feather bed he had in his bedroom back at school. There was what felt like a heavy blanket wrapped around him, keeping his body semi-cocooned. After so much stress, the nights waking up sore and tired no matter how much or how little he slept, this was near bliss, he almost didn’t want to open his eyes, but burrow even further into the sheets and not come out until spring. But then again, this was a bed on loan, not to keep. Alm wouldn’t appreciate him hogging his sanctuary.

Another thing preventing him from returning to sleep was hair tickling his forehead. Percy must have sought out some body heat, and Alm did spoil his daughter’s cat quite a bit, so it must be a common occurrence for him to clamber into bed with him. The image was amusing, but Lukas did not want to risk being suffocated by a cat resting on his head. He reached out and slowly push the cat off, only to have his hand come into contact with skin, and the blanket that was cocooning him made a soft grunt.

Lukas’s eyes shot open to his forehead touching Alm’s beard, and the king halfway holding him in an embrace.

“...Oh.”

That’s why he felt so relaxed. Lukas couldn’t even remember the last time someone had hugged him. He had almost forgotten how… good, it felt. Still, it would be improper for anyone to find them like this, and Lukas attempted to pull away. Another grunt and Alm’s grip pulled him back, letting out an exhale against Lukas’s probably atrocious bedhead.

Lukas smiled. It seemed Percy wasn’t the only one who liked a warm body. That train of thought made him reconsider his words, and he raised his free hand to shake Alm’s arm.

“Mhmf?”

“Good morning,” Lukas replied. “Or is it still afternoon?” 

“Morning,” Alm answered, then yawned. Lukas felt his heart do an unusual stutter as a hand reached up and fingers carted through his hair. He bit his lips to shove the gasp back deep down his throat before replying.

“...Er, Alm…?”

His voice seemed to reach Alm finally, and the petting halted before Alm’s body nearly launched out of bed. It was somewhat comforting to see how much color was on Alm’s usually pale face, at least.

“S-sorry! I, uh, oh no, I’m sorry, Lukas.” Alm stuttered. He was wearing a dark blue tunic and lounge trousers. It was better than waking up being clutched by a naked man, at least. “I was going to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful I just, I couldn’t, so I thought it would be fine if we shared the bed, but I… I’m sorry.”   
  
“It’s alright, Alm,” Lukas assured him. “You didn't do any harm. That was the best sleep I had in ages.”   
  
“...Really?” Alm looked more relaxed at those words.

“Yes,” Lukas replied as he sat up, folding his hands in his lap. “And I have no complaints about you as a bed companion, though waking up was… maybe a tad of a surprise. It serves me right for you having to drag me here after I passed out, right?”

Alm shrugged. “It wasn’t much trouble. You know, when we were younger, I always thought of you was built like a wall. But you’re… lighter than I expected. Carrying you wasn’t much trouble.”  
  
Lukas blinked. Alm _carried_ him to his quarters? “Excuse me?”   
  
“I mean, your muscles are still defined! You’re in great shape- I mean, I’m-I-!”   
  
Both of them were averting their gaze, and now Lukas felt his ears grow warm. How many people saw that? The rumors of a “weak constitution” must be floating around the castle as they spoke. How much ribbing would he get from the young soldiers after this?

Still, Alm was floundering and babbling in circles now, and it was better to put a stop to it before he said something they would both regret. “Thank you, Alm. I’m glad to have a friend like you.”

Alm stopped waving his hands. “Oh, well… it’s the least I could do.”

Lukas got out of bed with a small stretch, before walking towards the drawn curtain to peek outside. It was a lovely, late winter day outside. “...I think I’ll go into town to see Leon about some books today.”   
  
Alm crossed his arms and frowned. “Hey, you don’t want a repeat of yesterday, do you?”   
  
“I promise that you won’t have to fish me out of some gutter, I swear that I feel well-rested,” Lukas assured him, before covering his mouth to catch a yawn. “The fresh air should also do me some good.”   
  
But that hadn’t deterred Alm. “I could come with you; it would be much safer if you had company.”   
  
Lukas's eyebrow raised. “Trying to get another free day?”   
  
“I’m serious!” Alm exclaimed.   
  
That made Lukas reconsider his joking tone. It was strange for Alm to be this concerned. What happened yesterday must have been more of a shock than Lukas realized. He moved away from the window, and stood in front of Alm, taking his branded hand in his.   
  
“I’m sorry for worrying you like that,” Lukas replied. “I will try to be more considerate of my health from now on.”

Alm’s other hand moved forward to cover his, his forehead wrinkled. “Please do.”  
  
He felt another strange thud inside him, but Lukas decided he would ignore this one. “I’ll be back in time for tea, and then we can talk about what you uncovered about the war mages?”   
  
Alm sighed and nodded. “Yes. I actually do want your advice about that.”

“Good to know I’m wanted.” Lukas smiled, before moving away as Alm’s hands released his. They both went to do their set tasks for the day.

\---

Lukas found Leon just in the process of locking up shop, dressed for the weather with a wide-brim felt hat sheltering his face from the sun.  

“I must have forgotten that it was your day off,” Lukas commented.   
  
“It was more of a spur of the moment thing when I noticed the day and date,” Leon replied as he slipped the key into his pocket, then grabbed what he had placed at his feet: a bucket filled with flowers, and a brush. “Heading up to the castle.”   
  
“For what?”   
  
Leon righted his hat. “Going to spruce up Valbar’s grave.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. His tone surprised Lukas more than anything else. Time heals wounds for some, he supposed. “You probably just got here, but mind coming with me? I sent Anna off to play with some mad money, and Eli just left to oversee a new shipment at the harbor. I could use the extra muscle.

Lukas smiled wryly. He supposed his book request would have to wait. “Of course. Though, I don’t know if I have that much muscle left to give.”   
  
“Oh nonsense,” Leon replied handing him the bucket to carry. “...I mean, you’re nothing like Eli, that’s for sure-”   
  
Lukas had expected that. They made a quick detour through the market to grab some warm tea before starting their trek and talked about regular goings on in their lives. Leon nearly snorted his rosehip through his nose when Lukas told him about Delthea’s misunderstanding.

“She’s got one thing right, neither of you likes “the company” of women.” Leon chuckled. “Though Luthier doesn’t care for any beautiful people, regardless of what they have down below.”   
  
“I never expected to hear something so uncouth from your mouth. Do you kiss Eli with such expressions?” Lukas replied.

“And more,” Leon smirked. “But seriously, I suppose I shouldn’t expect more skills in perception from a noble’s wife. Delthea did well for herself, but I from what I know of her around social circles, she has a more insular view of the world.”   
  
“She means well,” Lukas objected. “Sometimes it’s a tad misplaced, is all.”

“Well, you have the perfect brother-in-law part down pat.” Leon teased, before waving the teashop owner down and paying. “On me- you’re helping out after all.”   
  
“Much obliged.”

Valentia’s heroes’ final resting place was close to the royal family’s gardens and hunting woods, but far from the front gates. Lukas guided Leon to the pump to get some water, then hoped it wouldn’t freeze. Though it was a clear day, it was still cold enough that Lukas was grateful for his new scarf and hat.

The grass was brown and brittle, giving off a soft crunch when stepped on. Lukas followed Leon’s path, even and assured after possibly many visits to the same spot.

“He had wished to be buried with his family,” Leon replied. “But I couldn’t find anyone willing to transport his body that far. Celica helped me with the ring-around the military office gave me, and I was able to take part of his ashes back. I wanted to give him that, you know?”  
  
Lukas didn’t but said yes all the same. That thought, on if he saw Python buried- hell, if he knew where Forsyth’s body even _was_ \- would that dull ache when he thought about them ever go away?

They reached the small monument with Valbar’s name, and a small inscription:   
  
_Well-loved. He spent his years of service much loved by friends and admirers._

Lukas read over it for a bit, before Leon set the flower’s aside and asked him to set down the bucket. They spent the next half hour scrubbing the marble clean of any ice or grime that the past season had brought. Once he deemed it sufficient, Leon began the decorate it with yellow blossoms, as well as some small blue ones, the same color of the rosemary that was slowly blooming in the atrium.

“Forget-me-nots. His wife’s favorite,” Leon replied with a soft smile. Lukas wiped his hands and folding them behind his back and allowing the other man some time to remember the dead. 

That is until Leon spoke up once more. “Hey… Lukas, mind hearing me out for a minute?”   
  
Lukas looked back down at Leon. The wide-brimmed hat was covering his eyes, making it hard to discern his expression. “Of course.”   
  
Leon’s head turned to look up at him, his face stern. “Don’t fall for a widower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A faster update this time! I wanted to update since we reached another kudos goal! Thank you to everything who has read and enjoyed. It's been wonderful to hear such sweet responses and comments on my writing. I have to say the next update may not come so quickly, but that will give you plenty of time to vote for a special fic/chapter you want to see from me! 
> 
> Options are listed below, and please comment or send me an ask on tumblr at MrMissMrsRandom with your choice, and whichever one has the most votes by mid-December will be the winner! I am giving a two-month space this time since I will be busy the next few weeks. 
> 
> 1\. Duma Faithful AU  
> 2\. Side chapter focused on Leon  
> 3\. Side chapter focused on Alm and Celica during their reign  
> 4\. Side chapter focused on Lucille, Talis, and Tierney  
> 5\. An AU AU (Meaning it does not take place in game continuity at all!) 
> 
> Hope everyone is enjoying their own change of seasons right now!

**Author's Note:**

> So my brain decided it would be fun to see how Lukas and Alm's relationship would change in the later years of their lives and I ended up with this. Most of this is set up and hints at events to follow, but Alm will actually show up next chapter!


End file.
